


Solid Gold

by heartsmadeofbooks



Category: Glee
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Emotional Baggage, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mentions of Finn Hudson - Freeform, Romance, Single Parent Blaine Anderson, Single Parent Kurt Hummel, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29403774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsmadeofbooks/pseuds/heartsmadeofbooks
Summary: Ten years after breaking his engagement to Blaine, Kurt's life isn't the fairy tale he once hoped for. Forced to leave New York, he goes looking for a second chance, not expecting to find it in the town he always wanted to run away from, or with the man whose heart he shattered.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson & Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 320
Kudos: 201





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to a new story!  
> I'm so excited to get to share a new one with all of you, and a little nervous because I've been working so, so hard on it. It's going to be a bit of a bumpy ride, so fasten your seatbelts, grab some tissues and chocolates, and let's do this. I think that if you can get through the first chapter, then you should be fine for the rest of the story? But I will add warnings if they're necessary for each individual chapter.  
> It's a story I've wanted to write for a long time, but I never felt ready. I thought now might be the best time to tackle it. It talks about some serious issues, so I hope you know I've written it with the utmost respect. I believe fiction – any kind of fiction, even fanfiction – has healing properties, so hopefully that will be reflected in this story :)  
> I'm nervous as hell, can you tell by my rambling?  
> As always I need to thank Christine for being the most patient, the most wonderful beta and friend in this whole wide world.  
> And a shoutout to my friend Jen (who you can find here as thatgleekychick – her stories are amazing!), for all the support and encouragement and writing sessions. Team AU forever ♥  
> The title for this fic comes from the beautiful song by Tom Chaplin.  
> Hope you enjoy! ♥

The clock on the dashboard hit midnight. It was silent inside the car, not even the radio on for company, for much needed distraction. The only noises came from outside, from the late night traffic. It was a rental car, and it smelled too much like the pine air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror, unfamiliar, strong, almost headache-inducing.

Kurt Hummel's fingers tightened around the steering wheel until his knuckles went white.

The line of cars in front of him suddenly began to crawl forward, and he breathed out in relief. He needed them to move, he needed to step on the gas pedal and feel the speed coursing through his body. He needed to get away.

But he couldn't. He had to be careful. Everything would have been different if he had been careful, smarter, faster, braver...

As the cars stopped again and he was forced to follow their cue, Kurt exhaled shakily. It felt as if his entire body was throbbing. All he could do, all he had to do, was to focus on this drive, this one drive, however long it took, and then everything might be alright.

He allowed himself to press his forehead to his arm and closed his eyes. Just for a moment. He just needed a moment.

* * *

If you looked at Kurt Hummel's life from the outside, you would probably think it was picture perfect.

You would look at all those nights in which he drank champagne at fancy dinner parties wearing tailored suits, and you would say: _Kurt Hummel is a lucky man_.

You would see him laugh as he stood with his partner's arm around his waist, both of them the very definition of handsome gay royalty, and you would say: _Kurt Hummel is a lucky man_.

You would walk into their two bedroom apartment in the middle of Manhattan, the one with the gorgeous views of the Hudson River, and you would say: _Kurt Hummel is a lucky man_.

You would look at the pictures that adorned the shelves, of a blossoming little family with wide smiles on their faces and their arms around each other, and you would say: _Kurt Hummel is a lucky man_.

But when the front door closed behind the rest of the world, when there wasn't an audience, when life went back to being private, when the smiles faded... no one would ever say that Kurt Hummel was a lucky man.

* * *

The line of cars finally began to move at a normal pace once again. Kurt was alerted of it when the vehicle behind him honked so loudly it startled him back to reality. Gasping, because even breathing was a struggle at the moment, Kurt straightened up and began to drive.

He chanced a quick glance over his shoulder at the darkened backseat to check everything was alright. His son slept on, exhausted, curled in his booster seat, his current favorite stuffed animal – this month it was Trumpet, the elephant – trapped between his bony arms. Just watching him made Kurt want to pull up on the side of the interstate and cry himself raw. His baby should've been on a warm, comfy bed right now. Not here. Not like this.

Nothing should have been like this.

And it was all Kurt's fault.

* * *

Kurt Hummel had given up on love when he was twenty years old.

That was probably an incredibly bitter thing, but it was what it was. He had been in love, he had been heartbroken, then in love and engaged, and then alone. It was too much of a rollercoaster for someone so young, and he knew it. One day he had woken up, looked at the ring on his finger, and realized he had no idea what he was doing. He didn't know if this was what he wanted, forever.

Forever was such a long time.

So he'd broken his high school sweetheart's heart and decided that his life needed something else. Something different. Something casual and fun, something that didn't feel like it was choking him every minute of every day.

And there had been plenty of men who were happy to fill in the sudden emptiness both in his bed and in his life. He had experimented and gone on dates, and met all kinds of guys. He didn't fall in love with any of them – that was not what he wanted. He wanted freedom. He wanted to be a different person, someone who wasn't needed as much as he had been with his ex-fiancé. He wanted not to feel pressured into taking things to the next step. He didn't want to break anyone's heart, and he really, really didn't want anyone breaking his. He wanted so much that he couldn't even put down it in words.

But then he had met Gabriel.

* * *

On the side of the road, there was a sign that said _Now leaving New York, the Empire State_.

Kurt breathed a little easier after that. But he still wasn't far enough.

He had to keep driving.

In the rearview mirror, he took a last long look at New York.

Despite how long he had dreamed about that city when he was still a kid – just a child, _god_ , so many mistakes, so many dashed dreams, so many expectations that would never be met – he was happy to see it become smaller and smaller in the distance.

There weren't many things Kurt was sure about right now. But he was sure of this: he never wanted to set foot in this town again.

* * *

Gabriel Novak was brilliant, alluring, the kind of man who could make your knees weak with just the flash of a smile. He had old Hollywood charm, like he had stepped straight from a black and white movie. There was something about him, about the way he talked, about the way he looked at people when they were in front of him, that made everyone feel like everything was possible as long as Gabriel kept smiling, as long as his attention never wavered.

That attention had settled on Kurt.

It was at one of those many, many parties Rachel used to drag him to. His best friend had shared his dreams of stardom, of standing on a Broadway stage, and they were a pretty good team, pushing each other harder and further when they needed a little extra motivation. She had been difficult but inspiring, too. When you lived with Rachel (and Kurt had for two long years after graduating high school, in a run-down loft in Bushwick), you were constantly challenged. She woke up at five in the morning to warm her vocal chords and exercise, to prepare a dance routine and a new song in case an audition fell into her lap, as things often did in Rachel Berry's privileged little world. So Kurt had started following in her footsteps. And he had grown a lot as an artist, so it hadn't been in vain, not really.

Rachel also insisted on networking. It was important to meet the right kind of people, she reminded Kurt very, very often. It was important to make connections in the theatre circle, to shake the right hands. And so she insisted on attending every single event they could, to meet producers, to meet casting agents, to try to get noticed.

And Gabriel had noticed.

Kurt had been standing alone in the hallway that lead to the restrooms, holding Rachel's purse, leaning against the wall, bored out of his mind. He had spent the past hour trailing after her as they tried to introduce themselves to a few producers who were in the process of putting together a new show, only to get ignored blatantly – they were nobodies. No one wanted to talk to the annoying girl who kept interrupting conversations to blurt out her name, or her gay best friend with the high voice who was not leading man material.

Kurt wanted to go home, get through his skincare routine and maybe catch up on some trashy television. It had been a long week.

“I hope you don't mind me saying this, but that suit looks wonderful on you,” a voice said, and Kurt turned around to find a tall, slightly older man, standing there in the otherwise empty hallway. He was broad-shouldered, classically handsome with his golden-brown hair swept back, and a smile that could have stopped traffic. “And that tie really makes your eyes pop.”

Kurt currently couldn't even remember what color his tie was, and couldn't bring himself to look down and check either. He was entranced. “I... thank you. That's very sweet of you.”

“I'm Gabriel,” he offered his hand, long fingers wrapping warmly around Kurt's when he accepted it, squeezing a little longer than necessary.

“Kurt,” he replied a little breathlessly.

“Would you let me get you a drink, Kurt?” He asked, smile still as bright.

“Of course,” he said, trying to sound as sophisticated as Gabriel did. “I would love that.”

It turned out Gabriel was a rising director and writer, and was at that party for pretty much the same reason Kurt and Rachel had attended. He was looking for someone who would be interested in a play he had been working on. He loved theatre, he was ambitious and clever, and Kurt had the feeling this man could get very, very far if he wanted to.

He was also a little older than Kurt, almost twenty eight, and having the attention of an older man, someone who was clearly more experienced and who could have any other boy in this room, in this city... it sent a thrill down Kurt's spine, and it pooled low in his belly as he swirled his drink around his glass and heard him talk. He hung on every word, because every single one of them was meaningful and passionate, and Gabriel was suddenly talking about how he could write a million parts for someone as talented and unique as Kurt. He made him feel special. He made him feel wanted.

Gabriel had always been good at talking people into doing what he wanted, but Kurt wouldn't learn that until it was too late.

* * *

He was really tired, but he didn't want to pull up on the side of the road.

They had to get away first.

He would rest when they reached their destination.

Or so he hoped.

* * *

Two hours later, Kurt had been on his back in Gabriel's bed, the headboard hitting the wall so hard it left a dent on the plaster.

Three months later, Kurt was moving in with him, despite how much Rachel told him he should wait.

Two months after that, Kurt dropped out of NYADA to help Gabriel with his new play. There was no use wasting time at school when he could work at a real theatre, with a real director, a real cast...

It was a whirlwind. Everything began to happen so fast, he could hardly process it. But it felt right. It felt exciting, like he didn't need to be in control for once, because there was someone else here to make all the big decisions for him. He just needed to sit back and let himself be appreciated and, yes, also fucked throughly into the mattress.

He thought they had something wonderful, a partnership. A future, common dreams.

He didn't see the signs. He was too blind to notice them.

 _This is what life is supposed to be_ , he told himself, when he began to doubt. _It's not all singing songs to each other in the morning, this is real life. This is what being in an adult relationship is like._

So he pushed his concern away when Gabriel yelled at him – he was just frustrated after a long day at the theatre, that was all.

So he pushed his alarm down when Gabriel's hand closed around his arm tight enough to leave a bruise – he didn't know how strong he was sometimes, he just wanted to pull Kurt away from the drunken guy who flirted with him at that Christmas party. It wasn't such a big deal.

So he told himself Gabriel was right when they stopped going to Ohio to visit his family – it was too much hassle just for a long weekend, just for Thanksgiving, just for one birthday party. His dad would understand. They were busy.

So he convinced himself it was okay to push all his friends away – when you were in a relationship, you needed to spend time together, you needed to cultivate it. You couldn't just go out for a drink with friends, those days were gone. He was in a committed relationship. He could have a drink at home with Gabriel. That was fine.

Their first year together, everything was so intense that they barely got out of bed. Kurt really didn't have time to think.

The second year, they were so invested in getting their play out on a real stage, on starting their own theatre company, that Kurt didn't even have time to make excuses when Gabriel began to get frustrated about his lack of luck. Kurt stuck by him, trying to reassure him. It was okay if Gabriel got angry, he was under a lot of pressure. Kurt just needed to be by his side and everything would be alright.

The third year, when Gabriel pushed him against the dresser, Kurt told him it could never happen again, and Gabriel apologized. He cried. He was just frustrated and tired, that was all. It wasn't going to happen again. They just needed to work harder at being happy. Maybe they just needed to start a family, look for happiness somewhere that wasn't a stage.

And Kurt, who had wanted to be a dad most of his life, agreed. Maybe a kid could fix what had been broken. Maybe a child would give them hope.

They got a surrogate and Gabriel insisted on Kurt being the biological father. For a while everything was beautiful, full of hope. The baby arrived and his parents visited them and held him and his son for the first time, and Kurt truly believed it would change everything.

The fourth year, Kurt stopped working to be with his son full time. He didn't really know what was going on with the theatre company, Gabriel didn't even want to talk about it. He got home every night, angry and sometimes even drunk, and he would yell so loud he would wake the baby.

The fifth year, they had to move to a smaller apartment because money was running out. Gabriel's frustration began to take an ugly shape. Mostly, he insulted Kurt, telling him how useless he was. Sometimes, he would push him around if he didn't like something, like dinner or what Kurt was wearing. He would get awfully territorial in public, keeping Kurt glued to his side, and then screaming at him if another man looked at him. Kurt tried to reason with him, but there was no use.

That was also the year he stopped calling his family. He hadn't seen his father and his stepmother since his son had been born.

The sixth year, Kurt began to lock his son's bedroom door every night before he went to sleep and hid the key inside a potted plant in the hallway. Gabriel never noticed. He wasn't the kind of father who went to kiss his son's forehead goodnight.

The seventh year, Kurt realized it had been a long time since he had enjoyed sex. Lately, all he did was lay down and stare at the ceiling and wait for it to be over. Gabriel never even noticed. Sometimes he would be too drunk to.

The eight year, Kurt realized he didn't love him anymore. He wondered if he had ever really loved him, or if he had been so captivated by him he had seen love where there was none.

But he couldn't leave.

Until that night.

* * *

Kurt wanted to turn the radio on, but didn't want to wake the sleeping boy in the backseat. He needed a distraction, something to quiet down his thoughts.

But he should have been used to not getting what he wanted at this point.

* * *

As almost every other night, Kurt had been finishing dinner in the kitchen when Gabriel got home. The smell of delicious homemade food permeated the entire apartment – garlic chicken, salad and rice, because it was all his son wanted to eat lately, rice for every meal. He really hoped he would get over that stage soon, but he guessed it was better than his cheeseburger-only stage.

Kurt's back was to the door, busy as he was on the stove, but he didn't need to turn around. It filled the air, like something rotten. Alcohol. Gabriel was drunk.

It had been happening more and more often, lately. Gabriel would cash in his unemployment checks and go to the bar to drink them away. Kurt had tried to talk to him, tell him he could probably find a job to help while Gabriel did his best to get back on his feet, but that conversation hadn't ended well. He hadn't brought it up again, since. He just scraped some money out of Gabriel's wallet every night once he fell asleep, enough to buy groceries, at least. He hadn't noticed yet. Kurt didn't want to know what would happen when he did.

A heavy, warm hand suddenly settled on Kurt's stomach, an arm around him pulling him close. Kurt was tense – he couldn't help it – as Gabriel's lips found his neck.

“Dinner will be ready in five minutes,” Kurt said, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

“I ran into that friend of yours today,” Gabriel replied. His breath could have lit fires. “Rachel Berry.”

Kurt's breath hitched. Nothing good could come from this.

“Oh, how is she?” He asked as nonchalantly as he could. “Go wash your hands and tell me over dinner...”

He tried to pull away, but Gabriel's arm tightened around him, keeping him in place.

“She's the new star of some Broadway show that's set to open next month,” Gabriel explained, his voice tinted with fury and envy. “Apparently she's made it since we last saw her. I asked her if she could introduce me to her director and producers, but she refused.”

“You know Rachel, she's never been great at sharing,” Kurt muttered, feigning a quick chuckle. “She loves the spotlight and won't give it away.”

“She said she didn't like me,” Gabriel said sharply. “Apparently she thinks I'm not good enough for you.”

Kurt closed his eyes momentarily. _Damn you, Rachel. Why can't you keep your mouth shut?_

It was Gabriel who chuckled now, a sound so dark and dangerous that made goosebumps raise on Kurt's skin. “And why would she think that? Huh? Is it something you said to her?”

Kurt immediately shook his head. “Of course not! You know I haven't seen her in years. Maybe she... maybe she feels like that because we lost touch. Maybe if I could go see her this week, or if she could come over for lunch or something...”

Gabriel spun him around so quickly Kurt almost lost his footing. His back hit the counter as Gabriel's arms enclosed him against it. “And why would you want to see her? She doesn't like me, Kurt. She disrespected me today.”

“I'm sure she didn't mean anything...” Kurt began to say, but then Gabriel knocked the pan off the stove, rice flying everywhere, and Kurt flinched.

“You're not better than me, Kurt,” he practically spat at him.

Kurt didn't even dare to breathe, he just stood there as still as he could, because he knew, he knew, that if he said something, anything, it would only make things worse.

“Daddy?”

_God, no._

His little boy stood on the doorway, looking at them with guarded blue eyes, regarding the mess. He didn't even glance at Gabriel, his gaze stayed on Kurt, and the silent concern there broke Kurt's heart. He was too young to be that concerned about his dad.

Kurt managed to get Gabriel off of him then, and he made his way to his son. “Go to your room, honey.”

At almost five years old, there were a lot of things that Finn Hummel did not understand, but he was a very intuitive child. The distrust in his face as he glanced at Gabriel was so evident that it sent a shiver down Kurt's spine.

“I don't want to go to my room,” he said quietly.

“What are you looking at, kid?” Gabriel asked, his voice booming around the kitchen.

Kurt decided it was time to move fast. He grabbed his son into his arms and hurried down the hallway and to his bedroom. “Finn, stay in your room,” he whispered. And oh, shit, shit, he could hear Gabriel following them. “Whatever happens, don't open your door until I say so, okay?”

“But why...” Finn began, but Kurt cut him off.

“Finn, I mean it. Don't open the door.”

Something in his father's tone must have conveyed his urgency, because the little boy finally nodded. Kurt practically ripped his arms away from his neck, where they were holding on so, so tightly, and gently pushed him into the room, before closing the door behind him and standing against it as he heard Finn move a little trunk to block it. Smart kid.

Too smart, too careful, too soon.

“Are you filling his head with crap and lies about me, too? Like you did with Rachel?” Gabriel yelled.

“I haven't said a word about you to Rachel,” Kurt replied as calmly as he could. “Or to Finn, for that matter. It's not my problem he doesn't trust you.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Kurt wished he could have held back his tongue.

But the words, and the fear, and the exhaustion had been building inside of him bit by bit, day by day, and he was done. He was so, so done.

He had no idea when his life had become this, but he didn't want it anymore.

The punch came so suddenly, it knocked his head back against the wall, the pain flaring from both sides and making his entire skull vibrate. It left him breathless and disorientated for a few seconds, enough for Gabriel to grab his arm and drag him, push him against the wall, and land another hit on his face as he screamed at him.

Kurt had no idea what he was saying. He could just feel the pain. How had they come to this?

He tried to push him away, but Gabriel was so much stronger than he was. At some point in the past few years, Kurt had become so weak he could barely recognize himself when he looked in the mirror. He should have run away. He shouldn't have stayed here. What if it was too late now? What if this was the end?

Finn began to scream. His little voice was muffled through the door and the pain, but Kurt could hear his despair and fear. He felt like he was on the edge of passing out, but he couldn't. He had to be stronger. His son needed him.

“You've ruined everything, Kurt!” Gabriel was screaming, each word punctuated with another hit, another shove. “You're useless! You're lucky I love you because no one else will!”

He didn't know how he ended there, but Kurt found himself curled up on the floor, his arms wrapped around his head to try and protect himself, as Gabriel kicked him and punched him. Time slipped away from him, like his brain wanted to spare him some of the trauma, and when he finally was aware of his surroundings again, Gabriel was stumbling back and away from him, exhausted from the beating.

“I'm tired,” he mumbled, his words slurring. “I'm going to lay down. We'll have dinner later.”

Kurt didn't dare to move – _couldn't_ – for a long, long time. Everything hurt. His head felt heavy, foggy, and he could barely make sense of what had just happened. Maybe he would never understand.

Finn had grown quiet in his room, and that, more than anything, spurred Kurt into action. He sat up slowly, every bone, every muscle in his body screaming in pain. There were drops of his blood on the carpet. He sat up, back against the wall, and forced himself to breathe. He couldn't succumb to a panic attack, not right now.

Standing up required more effort than it should. He didn't think anything was broken, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. He didn't want to look in the mirror, but knew he had to. He didn't want to scare his son. He needed to tend to whatever wounds he would find on his face first.

He slipped into the bathroom and gasped as soon as the mirror reflected his face back at him. Cuts on his cheeks, on his eyebrow, on his lip. One of his eyes was already black and swelling. There was blood pouring from the cuts.

It was straight out of a horror movie. Kurt would have never imagined something like this would happen to him. It didn't happen in real life. It didn't happen to people like him.

Until it did.

* * *

Finn woke up in the middle of the night disoriented, and started crying. Kurt had to pull up at a gas station and calm him down as best as he could.

They used the stop to have a bathroom break, and Kurt got a cup of coffee for himself and some apple juice for his son. Finn said he was hungry, but Kurt didn't have much more money, only enough to fill the tank with gas and hope it was enough to make it to the end of their journey. He promised him they would get breakfast when they arrived.

“But where are we going?” Finn asked when they were back in the car.

Kurt allowed himself a moment to breathe, before he replied. “Home, I hope.”

* * *

As soon as he cleaned up his face a little, Kurt spurred into action.

He went into Finn's room, and after hugging his son long enough to calm him down, he asked him to pack his favorite toys. He was grateful when Finn didn't ask any questions and did as he was told, grabbing his backpack and a totebag and working quietly and efficiently.

Kurt took a deep breath and went into his own room.

Gabriel was passed out on the bed, his clothes still on, snoring softly into the pillow. He was a heavy sleeper, but Kurt was still afraid he would wake up.

He would always be afraid, he thought.

He grabbed two suitcases from the closet, and filled one of them with as many of his clothes as he could, for once grateful that he hadn't been shopping in a very, very long time. His wardrobe was probably only a quarter of what it had been back in high school. It was the little and the big things that he had lost over the last few years. And he had been too blind to notice until it was too late.

Once he was done, he went back to Finn's room and filled the second suitcase with all his son's clothes and the toys he hadn't been able to fit anywhere else.

“Okay,” Kurt said, looking around to check they didn't forget anything. “We have to be very quiet, alright? Just follow me, Finn.”

They left the apartment and didn't look back once.

* * *

The sun was coming out as Kurt began to drive down a very familiar street. He hadn't been here in years – and god, why hadn't that been his first clue? He should've run away the moment he was forced to distance himself from those he loved the most – but he still knew every tree, every curb, every house.

His father's truck was parked in the driveway, and right behind it, Carole's smaller sedan. It was too early for either of them to be up for work, and Kurt slowed down until he parked in front of the house, thinking, thinking, thinking.

He was tired, down to his bones. He didn't think he had ever felt this drained, and Finn was curled up in the booster seat, clearly uncomfortable. He had fidgeted a lot during the last few hours, waking up crying and upset, and Kurt couldn't blame him. It had all been so sudden, so difficult, so horrible.

He had never imagined he would find himself in this situation.

His eye was throbbing in pain. He checked his reflection on the rearview mirror and wished his father didn't have to see him like this. The last thing he wanted to do was scare him or upset him. But he had no way to hide it – this was what his life had come to. There was no hiding it.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car, going around to open the backseat door and help Finn out of his seat. The little boy was still sleepy and clung to him without waking up. He was getting bigger, though he was a skinny little thing still, and Kurt hurt all over but he held onto him either way. It was the only thing that would heal him.

He walked up the driveway and hesitated. He hadn't been here in years, hadn't even talked to his father on the phone for who knew how long. He couldn't just go inside. He couldn't just open the door and let himself in. This was not his house. This was not his home.

But, _god_ , he hoped it could be again. At least for a little while.

He had no idea where else he would go if his father sent him away.

Kurt rang the doorbell and waited. He knew how long it took to get from the upstairs bedrooms to the front door. He had taken those same steps a million times – Rachel coming over to rehearse a number for Glee club, Mercedes joining him for a movie night, Blaine...

No. Now was not the time to be thinking about Blaine.

He counted the imaginary steps and waited, fingers digging a little into Finn's side, holding onto him for dear life. And then he heard the door unlocking, and it was pulled open and his father was there.

Burt Hummel had aged. There were wrinkles around his eyes and around his mouth, and he was clearly still trying to shake sleep from his features. He was wearing pajama pants and a soft cotton shirt, one of those old ones from the tire shop. The sight made Kurt ache so much with longing that he gasped. _Everything_ hurt.

But his reaction was nothing compared to Burt's. His gaze travelled over his son's battered face, and Kurt could tell it physically hurt him to see him like this. He took a step forward, holding onto the door as if he needed the support, as if his legs were ready to give out at the sight. “Kurt...”

“Hi, dad,” he muttered in a low, small voice. He took a deep breath and tried to smile, but he couldn't. “I know it's been a long time, but I... I was wondering if we could stay with you for a little while.”

Burt didn't hesitate a single second. He opened the door wider and said: “Kurt, you can stay here as long as you need to.”

After almost eight years, Kurt felt as if he could suddenly breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't wait to hear what you all think about it. Send Kurt lots and lots of love. He will need it.  
> This story will update Saturdays, at the usual time, and Wednesdays, a little later than usual because I'm finally going back to work after a year! Thank goodness. Can't tell you how much I missed it.  
> Thank you so much for reading! ♥  
> Love,  
> L.-


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday! ♥  
> I want to thank you for the comments on the first chapter. I know it was a difficult one to read, but things can only get better for Kurt now, even if it will be a complex journey.   
> Love to Christine for her amazing help. Honestly, where would I be without her?  
> Quick reminder in case you forgot – I will update a little later than usual on Wednesday, because I'm back to work, starting today.   
> Enjoy!

As Kurt stepped tentatively into the house, Burt had to fight the urge to pull his son and grandchild into his arms and hold them until he was sure the world wouldn't hurt them anymore.

He hadn't seen Kurt in years, hadn't even heard his voice on the phone in way too long, and had only seen Finn as a baby. There wasn't a single day he didn't think of them, and he knew things must have been going wrong, but Burt hadn't known how to reach out to him. He hadn't known how to help.

He should have done something sooner, anything, look for his son all over the state of New York, all over the country, if it was necessary.

Now he stood in front of him, broken and drained, and Burt knew he had failed.

Kurt stood awkwardly in the middle of the hallway, as if he didn't know the house, as if he hadn't grown up here. He rocked his son a little in his arms, his eyes wandering around as if he couldn't believe he was actually here.

He looked about ready to collapse.

“Why don't you put the little guy up in your room?” Burt suggested, doing his best to act as normal as possible, when he felt anything but. He too felt like he would collapse. The sight before him was the most heartbreaking thing he had ever witnessed, and Burt had been through a lot in his life. He was well-acquainted with heartbreak. “He looks like he could use a few more hours of sleep in a comfy bed.”

Kurt nodded, and he seemed grateful to be able to have a moment to himself. It had never been easy for Kurt, to be vulnerable in front of others, and this had to be the most vulnerable Burt had ever seen him.

He watched him go up the stairs slowly, as if every step hurt, his little son secure in his arms.

Burt wanted to follow him. He wanted to stay by his side and never go away again, never allow him to slip through his fingers again. There was a Kurt-shaped hole in Burt's heart, and it had been there for years. Part of him was hopeful that he would finally be able to fill it again, but just once glance at the man disappearing up the stairs told him this was not the sweet boy he had last seen.

So much had happened since he had been that boy.

To keep himself busy, hoping it would help him build some much needed patience, Burt walked into the kitchen and busied himself making coffee. It was still early, the neighborhood was quiet, deep into its late summer stupor. He could hear the sprinklers setting off in his neighbor's garden. He could count his own heartbeats as he grabbed two mugs from the cupboard. His hands were shaking so hard, he was scared to drop them.

All this time, he had only wished he would see Kurt again, and now he was back home, and Burt didn't know what to do.

A few minutes later he heard the last step on the staircase creak and knew Kurt was coming back. He poured the coffee and sat at the kitchen table to wait for him, trying as hard as he could to school his face into a mask that didn't show just how worried and sick he felt right now.

Kurt needed him. That was all he had to focus on.

When he stepped into the kitchen, Kurt had his arms wrapped around himself, as if now that he didn't have his son to hold, he wasn't sure what to do, as if he felt empty without him.

Burt knew exactly how he felt.

He gestured at the coffee on the table, a silent invitation, and Kurt accepted, slipping into the chair in front of him.

“This house hasn't changed a bit,” he commented, and it should have been funny, how hard he tried at sounding nonchalant, as if everything was normal, as if he didn't sit there with an eye that was almost completely swollen shut.

Burt wanted to play along, give Kurt time to be more comfortable and ready to talk, but he wasn't sure his heart could take it. He had waited long enough. Almost five years. It had felt like a lifetime without his son. “What the hell happened, Kurt?”

His voice was soft, but Kurt still flinched, as if he had punched him. He took a sip of coffee and, his face scrunching in pain as the hot liquid touched his cracked lip, he muttered: “I'm fine,” and then set the mug back down on the table.

“You're _fine_?” Burt repeated incredulously, unable to stop his voice from rising a bit, and immediately regretted it when Kurt recoiled.

“I will be,” Kurt corrected, his eyes down on his own hands as he wrapped his fingers around his mug. “I just need some time.”

“Gabriel did this, didn't he?” Burt asked, because there was no use in putting it off. He knew the answer without Kurt having to say a single word.

Kurt took a deep, calculated breath. It made Burt wonder just how much practice he'd had in the past few years at hiding what he felt.

“He didn't touch Finn, if that's what you're worried about,” he replied, so calmly that it threatened to crack every inch of Burt's soul. “I would never let him.”

“And I'm glad you protected your son,” Burt said, and couldn't stop himself from reaching across the table, his big hand settling on Kurt's. “But who protected mine?”

Kurt's exhale was shaky, painful. His eyes were still downcast, and Burt wanted nothing more than to make him look at him, to read the truth and the sorrow etched to those blue depths that reminded him so much of his mother.

Oh, if Ellie could see him now. She would die all over again out of sheer grief.

“I want to tell you everything,” Kurt murmured, and he carefully removed his hand from under Burt's. “But it's not easy. There's so much I can't explain...”

“I have all the time in the world, Kurt, and it's all yours,” Burt said, hoping Kurt understood there was nothing to be afraid of, not here, not anymore. “Just take your time, and tell me everything.”

Kurt took his time drinking his coffee. It looked like it was hard to swallow it, but easier than talking. Burt waited, not saying a word, keeping his gaze steady on his son, trying to show him he was here, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

“I'm not sure how it started,” Kurt finally said after what felt like a really long time. His knuckles were white around his mug. “Insults, I think. Little things he said that I should have paid more attention to. Little shoves here and there when he was upset. The first time I told him it couldn't happen again, but it did. I think I could have walked away if it had been only physical – physical violence is so much more obvious, isn't it? Like you can't ignore it, all the evidence is right there in front of you...”

And it was. Burt looked at his son's face and his blood boiled – his beautiful face, bruised, swollen. He must be in so much pain, and yet he didn't complain. He didn't say a word.

He must have had to learn not to say a word.

“But what really got me was the way he would talk to me,” Kurt continued, his voice so small Burt had to lean forward to listen to him. “It seemed harmless at first, like he was trying to help me see all the ways in which I was wrong, in which I could be better. But then it became... something else. Humiliating. Denigrating.” He stopped, took a sip of coffee, gave himself a moment. It was incredible, watching Kurt keeping himself together even though he was cracking badly inside. The things he'd had to cope with. The things he'd had to bury deep inside of him. Burt couldn't even begin to imagine them. “I think part of me believed him when he told me he wanted things to get better, when he said we should start a family. Part of me thought it would fix everything. But... it just made everything more complicated.”

“Babies tend to do that,” Burt commented, trying to sound light, like he understood. But this was nothing like what he and Ellie had had to deal with when Kurt was born. He had always been there by her side, learning everything with her, learning how to be a dad. There were sleepless nights and moments when he'd been so scared of screwing up he would be paralyzed. But he never, not once, thought he or Kurt wouldn't be safe with Ellie. And Ellie had never had to worry about him, either.

“He was... he didn't like that he had to share me, I think,” Kurt muttered, brow furrowing slightly, as if this was the first time he had time to actually sit and think about what he had been through, about why those things had happened to him. “Which was irrational, I know. But Finn became my whole world. And... he didn't like that.” He ran a hand through his hair, and exhaustion seemed to invade his features. Burt wondered when it had been the last time he had rested, truly rested, without having to worry about anything.

“What was he like with Finn?” Burt asked. He was honestly curious – he didn't remember much of Gabriel's interactions with his grandson while they had visited them in New York after Finn was born. He had been so captivated by the baby – god, he was Kurt's splitting image, it was mind-blowing, really – and it had been such an emotional moment when Kurt told him and Carole that they wanted to name him Finn... that he hadn't paid much attention to Gabriel at all, really.

He had always seemed pleasant enough, though he hadn't been his favorite amongst Kurt's boyfriends (he even preferred the british guy he had dated briefly while at NYADA, because even though they hadn't met in person, Burt could always tell, by the way Kurt talked about him, by the few moments they had chatted on the phone or through Skype when Burt called and he was at the loft, that he was nice and cared a lot about his son, and that was enough, in Burt's book), but he thought it was a matter of getting to know him. And when Kurt announced they were expecting a baby, Burt had imagined holidays spent together, becoming a family, welcoming him into their home.

Instead, Kurt had stopped coming home altogether.

“At first he seemed to be really happy about Finn coming into our lives,” Kurt said. “It was like the months leading up to it, he was at his best. He would show up with new clothes for him or a teddy bear, and it gave me so much hope. When he was finally there with us... I don't know, something changed. At first he seemed hesitant but excited. Then he seemed to stop caring. He wouldn't even pick him up.”

Burt tried to imagine his son, as happy as he had been when Finn was born, realizing his partner didn't feel the same way about their baby, that no matter what they did, nothing could fix the cracks in their relationship, because they ran too deep.

He didn't want to think too much about the details, though. Even though Kurt sat in front of him with the evidence all over his face. If he stopped, if he really, really thought about what Gabriel had done to his boy, Burt would have to go to New York, chase him down and hurt him as badly as he had hurt Kurt.

“I was so stupid,” Kurt said, dropping his head into his hands in defeat. “I should have known. I should have realized that having a baby with him wouldn't change anything. God, what a cliché. And I put my kid through it all, and now...”

“Kurt, calm down,” Burt said, dying to reach out to him and comfort him, but not sure if the touch was welcome. “There's nothing wrong with hope. But there is a lot wrong with hitting your partner.”

Kurt flinched, as if the bluntness of Burt's words hurt him as much as the punches had. “Dad...”

“He hurt you, Kurt,” Burt felt himself crumble, unable to keep himself together any longer. It was too much, to see him like this. “Look at your beautiful face. Look at what he did to you...”

“I'm sorry,” Kurt murmured, and as soon as the words were out, he crumbled too, tears streaming down his face, as a sob made him choke. “I'm so sorry, dad.”

“Kurt, no,” Burt stood up, and went around the table. He hesitated for a moment before he pressed his hand to his son's back, grateful when he didn't pull away. “You didn't do anything wrong. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I failed my son,” Kurt retorted, clearly too upset to listen to reason. “I failed in my relationship, I...”

With a little effort – he wasn't as young as he used to be – Burt kneeled on the floor in front of him, practically forcing his son to finally, _finally_ look at him in the eyes since he had crossed the front door. It was a devastating moment for Burt, because right there, he could see just how broken his boy was. He could see just how deep the scars would be, if the wounds ever healed at all.

“You did not fail,” he said earnestly. “Kurt, you were _abused_. You didn't fail.”

The word seemed to echo against the walls, landing on Kurt like a lash.

Burt itched to reach out and pull his son into his arms, but stopped himself, even though it was the hardest thing he had ever done. Kurt was breathing heavily, and Burt worried he was about to have a panic attack.

God, his poor child. Burt wanted to fix everything, make it safe for him again, but how?

In that very moment, Carole appeared in the kitchen, yawning, still in her cotton robe, her hair dishveled. She stopped in her tracks at the sight that greeted her: her husband on his knees on the cold hard floor, with her step-son bruised and hunched in on himself sitting at the table.

“Kurt!” She exclaimed, horrorized. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

It was a stupid question, and all three of them knew it as soon as it was out of her mouth.

“Oh honey, what happened?” She asked, coming closer.

Burt stood up as quickly as he could and pressed a hand to his wife's shoulder, a silent warning not to get any closer, not to touch Kurt. “Kurt and Finn are going to be staying with us for a while.”

Something flashed in Carole's eyes – it always did, and people often missed it if they didn't know her well. But Burt knew his wife, knew her well enough to recognize the mixture of hurt, pride and longing in her eyes at the name. His name. And now her grandchild's name.

“I think that's a wonderful idea,” she said softly.

Kurt hadn't really lifted his head, but her interruption had helped him calm down enough, get his breathing back in check. His fingers were still wrapped tightly around his cup.

“Let me get you a refill, kiddo,” Burt said, and it took a lot from him to make it sound like this was normal, like there wasn't anything extraordinary happening in his kitchen this morning. Like it wasn't his son sitting in absolute defeat right in front of him.

“And in the meantime, maybe you'll let me get a good look at that face? Some of those cuts look nasty, Kurt. You should let me clean them,” Carole added, already moving towards the cabinet where they kept a first aid kit. It looked like he was getting ready to protest, so Carole was faster, and said, as nonchalantly as she could: “Unless you'd prefer to go to the hospital and let a doctor do it instead?”

Kurt bit his lip in hesitation, and immediately seemed to regret it, because he flinched in pain. He exhaled heavily and nodded, and the world seemed to get even heavier on his shoulders. “Fine.”

Burt busied himself making another pot of coffee while Carole dragged a chair closer to Kurt and got to work. All traces of sleep were gone from her face, she was alert and clearly concerned, though she asked no questions. The first thing they needed to do was to get Kurt patched up, make him feel safe. The rest could wait.

“You should put some ice on that eye,” Carole muttered as she worked cleaning the cuts, inspecting Kurt's face carefully, smiling apologetically at him when he hissed in pain. “But none of these cuts need stitches, so you're lucky.”

The word hung in the air after she said it. Nothing about this situation was lucky, and they all knew it.

Burt set cups of coffee for Kurt and Carole on the table and sat down across from them, watching them in silence. He felt useless. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know if there was anything else he could do but offer Kurt a place to stay and a safe embrace when he needed it.

It didn't feel like enough.

When Carole stood up and went to the freezer to get an ice pack, Kurt reached for his coffee, clearly only drinking it to have something to do with his hands. He was about to take a sip when a scream pierced the silence.

He was out of his chair in a second, as a scared call rang through the house: “Daddy!”

“I'm coming!” Kurt replied, as he practically ran out of the kitchen, all pain and discomfort forgotten.

And then it was just him and Carole, looking at each other, and knowing there was nothing they could say.

Carole closed the freezer and went around the table, her arms wrapping around Burt's shoulders from behind, her cheek coming to rest on his bald head. “It'll be okay,” she murmured, as reassuringly as she could. “It'll be okay.”

Everything was most definitely not okay, but at least Kurt was home now.

* * *

Kurt opened the door to his old bedroom. It felt weird to be here, even if he hadn't had time to process anything except for the sudden feeling of relief and safety that had invaded him the moment he had crossed the front door. This was a place where he had always found shelter. This was a place where Gabriel could not reach him.

This was a place where he could keep his son safe.

Finn was sitting on the bed, tears streaming down his face, looking around the room, disoriented and scared. As soon as he saw his father coming into the room, though, he crawled across the bed until he could practically launch himself into Kurt's arms.

Kurt did his best to bite back the cry of pain that tried to escape through his lips. His whole body ached, and he just wanted to drop onto the bed and sleep into the next century. But he couldn't, because his son needed him.

“Daddy,” Finn mumbled against his ear. “Where were you?”

“I was downstairs, sweetie. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up,” Kurt said, sitting on the bed and gently pushing his son to sit beside him instead of on him. “But I promise everything's okay, and you have no reason to be scared, okay?”

Finn glanced up at him, his blue eyes so much like Kurt's. It marveled him, sometimes, how much of himself he could see in his son: the same pale skin, the same chestnut hair, the same sparkling blue eyes. “Are we going to go home?” He asked.

It broke Kurt's heart when he heard the question, because the way Finn spoke told him that the last place his little boy wanted to go was home.

And what a fucked up thing, for your child to be scared of going back to the only place he had ever called home. What a fucked up thing.

“This will be our home for a while. Is that okay?” Kurt replied, and Finn nodded hesitantly. He looked around, as if appraising his surroundings. “This is your grandparents' house. My dad and my stepmom. Remember I told you about them?”

Finn nodded slowly. “I had a picture of them. In my room. I didn't think to grab it. Do you think they'll be upset I left it behind?”

There were so many things they had left behind, Kurt thought, both good and bad. So many memories, so many treasures that he wouldn't get back. But they were just things – clothes and pictures and books and knick knacks gathered over the years. They could be replaced. He was glad he had managed to run away with the only thing that really mattered.

“No, they won't be upset. We can take a lot of new pictures, and they'll be really happy to get to spend time with you,” Kurt replied.

Finn lifted his hand, his little fingers tracing carefully over Kurt's face, his lovely little face scrunched in concern. “Does it hurt, daddy?”

“Yes, it does. But it'll heal,” Kurt said, doing his best to smile. He would always find a smile for him. “I know it looks bad and scary now, but it won't be like this forever. Just a few weeks.”

“Okay,” Finn smiled up at him, so trusting, so kind.

“Are you hungry? I promised I would get you breakfast. I could ask grandma Carole if she has ingredients for some pancakes, what do you think?”

Finn squealed in delight, a sound Kurt loved, but that made his head pound in pain at the moment. He smiled through it.

He had learned not to show his pain, even though it should have been the first thing people noticed about him.

But no one had, because the only person that had been by his side through it all, had been the one responsible for it.

He offered his hand to his son and helped him up, out of the room, and down the stairs, to where his grandparents were waiting patiently to see him, to get to know him, to get an opportunity to spoil him, to make him happy.

Finn would have a good life here. For the first time in a very, very long time, Kurt felt like he had finally made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It broke my heart a bit to write about Burt having to see his son like this, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter.  
> In the next one, we finally get to see what Blaine's been up to :)  
> I will see you on Saturday!  
> Love,  
> L.-


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! And happy sixth wedding anniversary to Kurt and Blaine! ♥  
> Thank you everyone for your lovely comments and your constant support. It really makes my day/week/month/year. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.  
> Shoutout to Christine, who's a rockstar at catching all my dumb mistakes.  
> Enjoy!

Dalton Academy had always been and would always be a place of opulence and elegance, of high ceilings and wood panels, of grand staircases and large expanses of lucious green lawn. Most of the boys in navy blazers that attended the school were priviledged princes, sons of politicians, sociliates, future attorneys and surgeons and Nobel Prize winners, people who would have a saying in deciding the fate of the country. When you were in Dalton, the possibilities were endless. You could be anyone.

For Blaine Anderson, it had been a safe haven since he had been just a kid, scared and bruised after being beaten at a school dance for daring to attend it with a boy as his date. It had been the place where he blossomed, where he gained confidence, where he healed. It had been the place where he had fallen in love for the first time, the only reason he had dared to leave its safety and return to a public school for his junior and senior years.

And it had been the place he returned to when his life fell apart and he couldn't even remember who he was anymore.

Blaine loved Dalton for welcoming him with open arms every time he needed it. For the past ten years, it had given him purpose, a reason to start over, a change he desperately needed. It was home, in a way. At fifteen, at sixteen, it had felt like a golden cage – it kept him safe from the threats of the outside world, but it felt like nothing but a beautiful prison nontheless. Now, though, and for the past decade, it was everything he could possibly need. He had made a life here, one he was proud of.

The cup of coffee on his desk was almost cold now, but he still took a sip as he finished reviewing his lesson plans for the first few weeks of school. Blaine liked to be prepared, which was why he was sitting in his office a week before classes actually started, enjoying the unusual quiet that settled over the school during the summer vacation.

Blaine had started at Dalton as coach of the Warblers, the glee club, but once he had gotten his teaching degree, he had taken over the music classes as well. It was a lot of work – Dalton meant greatness, and it was expected that its teachers strived to make each and every class as perfect as possible – but he loved it, and it didn't come without its perks. The office he had occupied for the past decade was bigger than his first apartment, the paycheck was juicy enough for him to live comfortably, and the fact that the students and the rest of the faculty loved him (some of the latter remembering him from his days as a student as a polite, nearly perfect boy) didn't hurt either. It wasn't what he had imagined doing with his life when he was younger and had ambitions of standing in the spotlight, but life rarely worked out the way you expected it to.

There was a time when things could have gone horribly wrong for him, when he was so lost he didn't know if he could make it another day. Now he looked around his office – the shiny marble floors, the luxurious mahogany furniture, the expensive sculptures and paintings adorning the walls, his old Dalton blazer displayed proudly in a cabinet – and couldn't believe his luck. It had been almost overwhelming when he had first started as a coach, when the dean had shown him to his new office, told him to get settled. He was still just a kid, heartbroken and defeated after being kicked out of college, after being left by the love of his life, after having to return home to Ohio to lick his wounds and figure out what the hell to do with his life now that everything he had taken for granted was gone.

And in here, he had dared to dream again. And he had made it, even if he still carried some of the scars deep inside of him.

He glanced at the time and stretched his arms over his head, popping his muscles and groaning slightly. He grabbed his jacket and bag from the rack near the door and left his office, locking the door behind him. He was looking forward to getting home, cooking a simple dinner, maybe watching a movie. His nights would soon become hectic again, with school work to take care of, so it was the perfect time to relax as much as possible.

Blaine rolled the car window down to enjoy the soft summer breeze as he drove, humming along to the music on the radio. It had been a good day, if slightly unremarkable, but that was preferable. He'd had his fill of memorable days, not all of them for happy reasons, and he was contented with a simpler, quieter life.

Eventually he parked the car in front of a lovely two story house. The garden was carefully tended to, rose bushes decorating the entryway. Blaine stopped the engine and exited the car. He had barely made it halfway to the front door when it was thrown open, and a happy shriek reached his ears. Two seconds later, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around one of his legs, and he looked down, chuckling.

“You're here!”

“Yes, I am,” Blaine replied, leaning to pick up the little girl currently holding onto him like a tick. “Did you miss me?”

“I always miss you, daddy,” she said, lifting her head and giving him a bright smile. Blaine smiled back and brushed a kiss to her soft, dark brown hair.

Blaine looked at the front door and found his brother leaning against it, a gentle smile on his face. “Why don't you go get your stuff, sweetie? Then we can go home.”

He put her down and Olivia immediately ran back into the house, almost knocking Cooper in the process. His girl was a little hurricane, but Blaine wouldn't have her any other way.

“Did she give you any trouble?” Blaine asked, as Cooper gave him a quick pat on the back in greeting.

“Not at all. She's so much fun to be around,” Cooper replied.

“Maybe that will make you and Maggie hurry up and give me a few nieces or nephews already,” Blaine teased, and Cooper threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Oh, no, no. Maggie and I talked about it and we love our life just the way it is. I love Olivia, but I'm glad she goes home at the end of the day and is not my full responsibility. I can sit with a beer, watch a game, have loud sex in the middle of the kitchen with my wife whenever I want to...”

“Ugh, _Cooper_ ,” Blaine groaned, giving him a light push, and Cooper laughed again. “We eat in that kitchen sometimes.”

“Just being honest, little brother. I like my life just the way it is,” Cooper said, shrugging unapologetically.

And Blaine knew he did, and he knew exactly why he bothered saying it as often as he could. Because Cooper probably wouldn't have come back to live in Ohio if it wasn't for him, and for a long time, Blaine had lived with guilt settled heavily on his chest, thinking he had forced his brother to stop chasing after his dreams. But it had taken Cooper returning to his home state to find the love of his life, so when his brother reassured him that there were no regrets, Blaine usually believed him.

Olivia returned, her bright purple bag on her back, and smiled up at them. She was missing one of her front teeth, but she was still the most beautiful thing Blaine had ever seen. Her wavy brown hair was a little messy from playing with her uncle all afternoon, and her bright coffee eyes always denoted just how smart and alert she was. It was hard hiding stuff from her, and she could talk circles around all the adults in her life. She asked the most outrageous questions sometimes, and it made Blaine feel a little bad for her teachers. They would have no idea what was about to hit them when she started kindergarten next week.

“Thanks for watching her, Coop,” Blaine said, and leaned in to give his big brother a one-arm hug.

“My pleasure, Squirt,” Cooper replied, and Blaine shoved him a little at the nickname. He tugged lovingly on a lock of Olivia's hair. “We had fun, didn't we?”

“Yes, uncle Coop! We did!” She exclaimed, and jumped until he picked her up for a quick hug goodbye.

Cooper turned to Blaine as he kissed his niece's cheek and set her down. “Mom called, by the way. She wants us to go over for dinner on Thursday. I already checked with Maggie and she's free.”

“Then we'll see you there,” Blaine smiled, and grabbed his daughter's hand. “Alright, thanks for everything again, Coop. Say bye, Ollie!”

“Bye, uncle Coop!” She said with a bright grin, as Blaine guided her towards the car. “Love you!”

“I love you too, Squirt junior,” Cooper replied, making his brother roll his eyes.

He put Olivia into her booster seat in the back before he went around the car to the driver's seat. Cooper stood by the front door and waved at them until Blaine turned around the next corner and he couldn't see them anymore.

Olivia talked a mile a minute as Blaine drove, telling him all about her day with her uncle. Cooper worked from home a few days a week, and it allowed him to help Blaine out while Olivia was on summer break from school. Once classes started again the following week, he would be able to stop imposing on his family for babysitting duties, despite knowing they didn't mind and that they loved spending time with her.

They lived in a lovely, small cottage-style house. It had been the yellow facade and the large tree in the front that had made them fall in love with it at first sight. Olivia had insisted it needed to be their home, because it looked like something straight out of a fairy tale. Sometimes she danced in the garden while Blaine looked at her from the kitchen window, like a princess waiting for woodland creatures and a prince to come to her out of thin air.

They had been in this house for almost two years now, and it had actually been Maggie, Cooper's wife, who had found it for them. It had been incredibly helpful to have a realtor in the family when Blaine was trying to keep his head above water, going through an unexpected divorce and raising a little girl on his own. Life certainly hadn't gone according to plan.

It rarely ever did.

As soon as Blaine opened the front door, Olivia ran inside, kicking off her sandals and dropping her bag in the middle of the hallway.

“Olivia, pick up your things and put them away! This is not how we treat our stuff!” He called after her, and she pouted but returned to do as she was told. “Good, thank you.”

“Can I go watch my show now?” She asked, bouncing impatiently on the spot.

“Sure thing, sweetie. I'll go get started on dinner in the meantime. What are you in the mood for?” He asked, as he put his own jacket and bag in the closet by the door.

“Can we get pizza?” She said, as she let herself fall onto the couch.

“No, sweetie. We had pizza this weekend,” he said. “What about some chicken fingers? Would that be okay?”

“Fine,” she agreed, but her attention was already on the television, where her favorite TV show was starting.

He moved into the kitchen, already trying to brainstorm what he would say to her to get her to eat whatever veggies he slipped onto her plate. The kitchen was his favorite part of the house, luminous and comfortable, the white furniture contributing to making it look like it was filled with light at all times of the day. It felt lived in, with a little breakfast nook in shades of white and clear blue by the window that was always showered in sunlight in the morning. They had a larger dining set in the living room, for when they had visits – mostly his parents or Cooper and Maggie – but they rarely ate there, prefering to stay in the coziness of the kitchen. There was no point in setting up a larger table for just two people, one of them a five year-old who bolted from the table as soon as she was done eating.

Sometimes Blaine really missed being married.

Ten years ago, when his life had fallen to pieces in New York, when Kurt had broken up with him and called off the engagement, Blaine had been in a really, really dark place. He had been kicked out of NYADA, and suddenly everything he had thought would put the pieces of his future together had vanished before his eyes. He had no college, no career in Broadway, and no fiancé. So he had done the only thing he could think of, and ran back home to Ohio.

The first few weeks had been hard. He had been lost and wrecked, didn't know how to put himself together. And then he had gotten that job at Dalton, and suddenly there was a reason to get out of bed every morning. His mother had suggested he started seeing a therapist, and Blaine had agreed that it was a good idea. It had helped him deal with his feelings in a much healthier way, even if the recovery process was really, really long.

Dalton hadn't only given him a job, but a new path. He realized he really enjoyed working there, helping the students. And he wanted to continue doing that even when they didn't have Glee practice. So he decided it would be best if he got a teaching degree. He had enrolled in OSU and balanced his classes with his job at Dalton until he graduated. Everything began to make sense again, and Blaine thought he might be able to be happy again, finally.

And that possibility had solidified when he met Patrick.

They had met at OSU, though briefly because they were in different departments, Blaine majoring in music education and Patrick in physical therapy. At first, it had seemed like they were too different to get along, their interests never aligning, but somehow they had clicked, and they understood each other. They had a great time and wonderful chemistry. It was enough. It was good, and simple, and uncomplicated, and perfect for Blaine's cracked heart.

With Patrick, he felt safe, because he was predictable. With Kurt, he had never known what could happen. And though he had loved being surprised by Kurt every single day, it had been what had ended up blindsiding him. Kurt was so surprising and so unpredictable, that Blaine hadn't seen the end of their relationship coming until he sat at a restaurant table and his fiancé was suddenly telling him he didn't want to marry him anymore, that it was better to call it quits before they completely hated each other.

A younger, more inexperienced Blaine would have found Patrick boring after being with a person as bright as Kurt. But he didn't. Instead, he found him comforting. He welcomed some boredom into his life, really. He wanted the kind of guy who didn't think of spotlights, who didn't dream big enough to let that dream take over everything else. He didn't want jealousy or envy or fights about who got more solos. He didn't want to compete with the person he was supposed to be an equal to. He had been so tired. He just wanted to be able to relax, have fun and be loved.

Once they had graduated, since Blaine was working at Dalton, they got a place together near the school and began to plan their future together. Everything was going great. Everything made so much sense. Blaine proposed and he said yes. They got married in a small, intimate ceremony and began their real life together. It wasn't long before they talked about having children, and Blaine had been over the moon – he wanted to be a dad, it had been his biggest dream. Patrick had been reluctant at first, not having had a great experience with his own father growing up, but had agreed that it was the next step. And so they had found an adorable two year old who needed a home, and Olivia had come into their lives.

That should have been their happily ever after.

Blaine had looked around and realized he had the perfect life he had always wanted, even if the person he was sharing it with wasn't the one he had originally planned it with. But he didn't regret a single thing. Unfortunately, it wasn't the same for Patrick.

He began to stay at work later and later, only coming home late, when their daughter was in bed and dinner was cold on the table. Blaine asked him if he was cheating on him, but Patrick denied it over and over again. Blaine had no idea what had gone wrong, and he pushed and pushed until Patrick broke down and admitted that he wasn't happy.

“What do you mean you aren't happy?” Blaine had asked, and he suddenly had flashbacks to a rainy night in a crowded restaurant, and a boy saying it was over.

“I don't know, Blaine. I thought I would be, but I'm just... miserable, all the time,” Patrick said, and the way he talked, like he had been carrying an immense weight on his shoulders, made Blaine pause. “I thought this was what I wanted. But I think I made a mistake.”

“What kind of mistake?” Blaine's voice had shook and he had held himself so tightly he could hardly breathe.

“I think I'm not in love with you anymore,” Patrick had muttered, and each word had felt like a kick to his gut. “And there's no one else, before you ask me that. I just... don't want to be married anymore.”

Blaine tried to think back and see the signs that had had to be clearly there for him, because this was so shocking, and it shouldn't have been. He should have known somehow, that his life would fall apart once again. But he had been so busy with Olivia's arrival, with her getting used to being part of the family, that he hadn't noticed when they stopped being a couple – they stopped going out, stopped having sex, stopped kissing each other goodnight. The fleeting touches, the intimacy, the complicit looks were gone.

Patrick packed his things and left. They agreed to share custody of Olivia, but she would live with Blaine. The house was suddenly too big, too much of a reminder of his failure ( _another_ failure) and Blaine didn't want to live there anymore. So he called Maggie and asked for her help. He and Olivia moved into their new house and started a new life.

The day he got the divorce papers, he dropped Olivia with his mom and drank himself to oblivion at Scandals. He woke up the next morning in a room he didn't recognize with a naked man next to him. He bolted out the door, barely stopping to gather his clothes, and promised himself to never hit rock bottom like this again.

He was a father. He needed to be better.

The hardest thing, at first, was that Patrick came every other weekend to pick up Olivia and take her home with him. It was difficult to see him, to have another reminder of what he had lost, to see him walk away with their daughter. To be alone, in a brand new house, without his husband and without his daughter, waiting for the weekend to end so she would return and fill the house with her giggles and her chatter again.

But then Patrick had started coming less and less. He started to cancel because he just couldn't take Olivia that weekend – he had a conference in Columbus or a wedding that he couldn't take her to or he had to work an extra shift. Blaine got angry, but didn't say anything. He was happy to be able to keep his daughter with him, even if it meant he never had time for himself, that there wasn't anyone there to take some of the weight off him when things got difficult. Parenting should have been a team sport. Without Patrick, the balance was broken.

With time, though, it got easier. He got used to it. He still had no time for himself, but he had support. Cooper and Maggie were great with Olivia and were always happy to have her over or take her out to a park or the movies whenever Blaine needed time for himself. His parents were also a big help, always willing to spend time with her. But she was his daughter, his responsibility, and Blaine didn't like to leave her often.

It had been terrible for his love life, but he wasn't sure he should even have a love life anymore.

He was done having his heart broken.

Once dinner was ready, he called for Olivia. “Go wash your hands, sweetie!”

She shuffled into the kitchen a couple of minutes later and slipped onto the bench under the window, her favorite spot, while Blaine sat down at one of his lovely sky blue chairs across from her. They ate while she told him all about the show she had just watched (something about a group of friends who went on adventures? She changed her favorite shows so often it was hard to keep up), while gently pushing her into eating all her carrot sticks. She rolled her eyes, but agreed to do so.

“But I don't want to eat all my broccoli, okay? It tastes like farts,” she said, very seriously, and Blaine had to bite on his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

After dinner, Blaine washed the dishes while Olivia went to her room to play. He tidied up the kitchen, already building a mental list of all the chores he needed to take care of that weekend – laundry, grocery shopping, and Olivia needed new sneakers for school – before he went to fetch his daughter for her bath. He felt lucky that she wasn't one of those kids who complained about bath time, since Olivia loved the bubbles, loved to be pampered. Blaine knew he wasn't supposed to spoil her, but sometimes he couldn't help it. When she smiled at him or looked up at him with her big, dark pleading eyes, he was a goner.

She played with her mermaid doll while Blaine washed her hair. “Can you sing me the Little Mermaid song, daddy?” She asked, as she did every night.

It was already on the tip of Blaine's tongue, too familiar after having sung it a millionth times. “ _Look at this stuff, isn't it neat_...”

He dried her off and helped her into her pajamas. They sat on the living room rug and played a board game on the coffee table until it was bedtime. He got her into bed, grabbed a book from her shelves and read her a story until her eyes began to droop. He kissed her forehead, wished her sweet dreams and turned the lights off, making sure to leave the night light on her desk on. He left her room, leaving the door ajar in case she needed him, and only then did he go into the bathroom for his own shower.

This was the part of his day he hated the most.

The house was so silent when Olivia was asleep. He had no one to talk to – no one to hold an adult conversation with, one that didn't involve crazy stories about monkeys or princesses or imaginary friends – no one to share the frustrations or the joy leftover from his day; no one to share a bottle of beer or a glass of wine with; no one to slip into bed with, to rest his head on his chest and talk or kiss or have sex with until they fell asleep.

Blaine had never been good at being alone. He had gotten better at it when he started therapy after Kurt broke off the engagement – it had been necessary for his survival, really, since he had been in a terribly dark place where he didn't know how to enjoy his life anymore, didn't know how to be himself anymore. But he liked being in a relationship, had loved being married. He liked to share his life with someone, to have projects and goals and dreams together. He liked to come home to someone.

But it was so hard to find someone when you had a daughter. Dating casually wasn't an option anymore, and jumping into a serious relationship when he had to take Olivia into consideration wasn't easy, either, if he could even find a man willing to have a serious relationship from the very beginning. He couldn't just expose her to however many men he needed to meet before he met the one that would stay. He couldn't have guys over when she was sleeping in the room next to his.

And where would he even begin to meet men? Dalton wasn't exactly a dating pool filled with potential candidates, and most of his social life was made up by Olivia's friends' parents. He glanced at his phone – Cooper had suggested a million times that he should try dating apps, but it made Blaine uncomfortable to try them. Was he just supposed to upload his information on a random app like he was selling himself to the highest bidder? It all seemed terribly superficial. He didn't know what to do.

Maybe it was time to accept that he wouldn't be able to date properly until Olivia was older. She was just too young, and Blaine and Patrick had divorced only two years ago. Whatever needs he had, they weren't more important than his daughter's, and he didn't think he could get back out there and date without her life being affected in some way, most likely negative.

Blaine sighed and let his head fall onto the back of the couch, the house still silent, still empty. He turned the television on, needing some kind of noise in the background, something that distracted him.

Despite the loneliness, his life was full of happiness, of blessings he wouldn't exchange for anything in the world. He just needed to learn to live with the little hiccups, the detours, the one way streets. One day he would find his way again, but tonight? Tonight he was on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think with this chapter the timeline of the story is a little more evident – it's canon until the 6x01 break up, and the story borrows a few details from season 6, but with some very obvious changes.  
> I hope you liked getting a glimpse at Blaine's life!  
> I will see you again on Wednesday!   
> Love,  
> L.-


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday!  
> I hope you're all having a wonderful week so far. Thank you for your comments and your contanst encouragement and support. You guys are the best!   
> Love, love, love to Christine, my friend and beta, for her help.  
> Enjoy!

The first few days back in Lima felt like a daydream.

Kurt pushed everything he felt deep down inside, every hurt, every frustration, every fear, and focused on making sure Finn adjusted to their new life. He smiled at his son, played with him, made sure he bonded with his grandparents, kept him fed, clean and put him to bed each night with a story.

But whenever Finn wasn't around, Kurt's smile disappeared, his posture changed, everything seemed to darken. He would freeze, find himself lost in his thoughts, like a robot that suddenly went out of order the moment his son left the room or fell asleep.

More often than not, Burt or Carole would walk into the living room or the kitchen and find him sitting near the window, staring out at the neighborhood as if in a trance, his face a mask that hid absolutely everything he was feeling.

He just couldn't cope. He couldn't think. He didn't want to relive any of the things he'd had to go through in the past few years. Because now that he was safe and away from Gabriel, he remembered so many other things that had been done or said to him, that had seemed insignificant at the time, but that had left a mark, slowly building the hurt, slowly bruising him and putting him down. He closed his eyes at night to go to sleep and all he could see where the moments he had been trapped against a wall or the kitchen counter, and all he could hear were the spiteful words spat at him as if he was nothing but garbage.

And he hadn't done anything to stop it. He had just stood there and taken it all, putting his son in danger, until things escalated so badly that he had no choice but to run like a coward in the middle of the night.

It was on his third day back in Ohio that Gabriel called.

Kurt stood paralyzed in the middle of the kitchen, halfway through making Finn's lunch, as the phone vibrated in his hand, the familiar picture and name flashing back at him from the screen. He could feel his own breath shortening, his chest heaving, his stomach twisting with nausea.

What could he possibly want?

_Kurt, you can't be part of the show anymore. People just don't like your voice. It's nothing against you, and you know that I love it, but it's just... there's no place for you in the show. You don't look the part._

_Are you sure that's what you want to wear? Kurt, you look ridiculous. You're not a little kid anymore, you don't need to wear a costume. Oh, that's fashion? Sure. But I'm not leaving the house with you dressed like that._

“Daddy?”

_Don't take this the wrong way, baby, it's just... you know, your friends make me so uncomfortable. Rachel doesn't like me. Santana questions everything about our relationship, and what does she know? We're perfect together, we shouldn't need their support. I just think we should take time away from them for a while. Just promise me you'll stop seeing them? For a while? For me?_

_God, Kurt, how can you be so stupid? How many times do I have to tell you? I need you to stay home. You can't work right now. Someone needs to be here and take care of everything, and I'm so close to making it with the company, to getting my big break. Don't you believe in me? Don't you think_ I'm _talented?_

_Shit, Kurt, stay still. You should be grateful someone wants to even bother to fuck you, whiny bitch..._

“Daddy!”

Finn's voice brought him back with a startle, and he dropped the phone, which continued to vibrate on the floor, the call insistent. Kurt, shaking slightly, turned his head to look at his son.

“What is it?” He asked in a low, weak voice.

“There's smoke, daddy!” Finn exclaimed, pointing at the stove, where the chicken Kurt had been grilling for him now resembled coal.

He quickly moved towards it, turned off the burner and threw the smoking pan into the sink, before moving to open the window and the back door to air the kitchen. “I'm sorry, sweetie. I'll make you something else...”

“Can I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, please?” He asked with a hopeful face, and Kurt nodded absently.

The phone stopped vibrating before resuming again, and Kurt felt it on his very bones.

Before he moved towards the pantry for the bread, he leaned down and grabbed the phone. After looking at it for a moment, he turned it off, and then threw it in the trash.

He made his son a sandwich and did not think.

* * *

Later that night, when Finn was finally asleep, Kurt exited their bedroom quietly as not to wake him. They were sharing Kurt's old bedroom for now – part of the reason was that he didn't want to be away from his son for too long, but most had to do with the only other available room being his brother's. And though he was sure Finn would have loved his nephew, would have loved to give his space to him, it felt like too much, just now. It felt like he was just piling up on more and more hurt.

Kurt didn't sleep much. Whenever he closed his eyes, he didn't like the images behind his eyelids. It was still all too fresh, too recent. He just needed time to process everything. He was sure things would be fine eventually.

He knew life didn't work that way, but he needed to believe it did, at least for a little while.

He went downstairs to make himself a cup of tea and found Carole sitting alone at the kitchen table.

“Hey honey. Is the little cutie down already?” She asked with a gentle smile on her face.

“Yes, after like four stories,” Kurt replied, as he grabbed the kettle and filled it with water. “I'm going to make some tea. Would you like a cup?”

“Sure, I'd love some,” Carole muttered, and then cleared her throat in a way that told Kurt there was something she wanted to say but didn't quite know how. “So, I... uhm. I found your phone in the trash today.”

Kurt felt the muscles in his back tensing, but said nothing. He simply put the kettle on a burner and moved to fetch the mugs and tea.

“I assume that wasn't accidental? I thought maybe Finn threw it there without you noticing,” she added.

“It was not accidental,” Kurt said as calmly as he could.

“Did Gabriel call?” Carole asked, and hearing his name out loud felt like another bruise forming in his body. “Is that why you threw it away?”

“Yes,” he said simply. He watched the kettle. The little flames lapping at the bottom of it. He focused on them, and did not allow himself to feel any pain.

“Honey, you need to talk to us,” Carole said, and Kurt heard the chair scraping the floor as she stood up to approach him. “Your father and I? We want to be here for you and help you in anyway we can. But since you've gotten here you haven't said a word, after that first morning. We see how it's killing you to keep it all inside. You can't just pretend to be okay while you're with Finn, and then...”

“I'm doing the best I can,” he interrupted, not rudely but rather sharply. “This is the only way I know how to cope at the moment, Carole.”

It looked like she wanted to reach out, maybe hug him, touch him, but she didn't. Both Carole and his father hesitated constantly around him now, like they were scared he would break. He wasn't sure they were wrong. He felt near breaking. He was terrified he would.

Every morning he got up, stared at himself in the mirror, and didn't recognize himself – and not only because of the bruises. In the past few years, he had lost the spark that had made him who he was, that had kept him alive when he was bullied in high school, that had helped him keep his head high whenever someone insulted him or dismissed him.

Gabriel had made sure he lost it.

Would he always be this? Would he be scared and incomplete for the rest of his life? This was not how he wanted his son to see him, but he didn't know what to do.

Maybe that's where he needed to start.

“I don't know what to do,” he admitted, trying not to choke on the words. “I don't know how to move on from this.”

Carole leaned against the kitchen counter and smiled at him. It was a soft, almost sad smile. “Let us help you, Kurt. Tell us what you need,” she said, sounding so earnest that it made Kurt pause. “Your father and I have been dying to spend time with Finn. Let us take care of him and do whatever you need to take care of yourself. I bet you haven't been able to focus on yourself for a long time.”

Kurt sighed and poured the tea carefully into the waiting mugs, making sure not to spill a single drop of water despite the fact that his hands were shaking. He grabbed his mug and moved to the table, followed by Carole, who sat across from him. She didn't say anything, like she could tell he was trying to figure something out.

“It's... more than likely I'll stay in Lima,” Kurt finally said, his eyes fixed on the darkening liquid, poking at the tea bag with his spoon. “So I should probably start looking for a job, and a place to live, and a school for Finn.”

“So you have no intention of going back to New York?” Carole asked, and it didn't seem like she was trying to get rid of him, to push him back to the city, to get him out of her house. It just sounded like she was curious.

“No,” Kurt said, not really needing to think about it. “I just don't think I can ever go back. It's funny, you know,” he added with a bitter chuckle. “When I was a kid I dreamed of that city for so long, and once I got there, nothing went like I planned. All I found was heartache and disappointment. I'm the one to blame for most of it...”

“Don't say that, Kurt,” Carole cut him off, leaning across the table to look him in the eyes. “None of what happened with Gabriel was your fault. I'm sure there were nice moments and memories, so don't let them get tainted by what he did. And if you're talking about Bla–...”

“Still, nothing was what I hoped for,” Kurt hurried to say, his voice a little louder than necessary, desperate to drown out Carole's words. “There's nothing for me in New York. I'm just... I'm gonna stay here.”

Carole bit her lip, probably holding back some retort she didn't think Kurt wanted to hear right now, and Kurt was grateful, because his head was already buzzing and he didn't want to deal with more than necessary.

They drank their tea in silence for a couple of minutes, before Carole said: “Well, I think there's no hurry in finding a new place to live. We're happy to have you both here for as long as you want to stay. And if you feel like finding a job will be good for you, then go ahead, but don't feel like you need to do it for our benefit. We want to help in any way we can, Kurt.” Her voice was very clear, like she wanted to make sure he understood every word. “But I think finding a school for Finn might be a fantastic idea. It'll be good for him to be distracted, to have friends his age, to regain some kind of normalcy in his life. And it'll give you a few hours a day to yourself as well.”

Kurt nodded slowly. It was difficult to process everything so quickly. A week ago he had been in New York with his partner of eight years, every day a living hell but somehow predictable, and he had been used to it. He hadn't had to think all that much – it was a routine that repeated itself endlessly until Kurt barely even knew what day it was. And now he had to figure out how to start all over again from scratch, having lost absolutely everything...

But he had his son. And he had his father, and Carole.

What was the point of getting away from hell if he allowed the bad memories and the bad experiences to keep controlling his life?

He needed to do something. He needed to make sure Finn had a happy life.

And maybe, just maybe, he would manage to get some happiness back for himself.

* * *

At least once a week, the Anderson family got together for dinner. It wasn't a tradition that had been around when Blaine was little. In fact, it was a rather recent one. Sometime in the past decade, his parents had realized that they hadn't been there for their children as much as they should have, that both Cooper and Blaine had grown into adults and they had missed it, that every time one of their sons needed them, they hadn't been able to turn to their parents for support.

It had taken Blaine's depression after he came back from New York and Cooper rolling back into Lima for them to open their eyes and try to make up for lost time. And once they had become grandparents, it had seemed even more important for them to be there for their family.

Olivia had been a blessing in many, many ways. The last bit of glue to bring them all together and make sure they would never forget what truly mattered anymore.

Sometimes, when they were all sitting around the table, Blaine looked around and was suddenly reminded of Friday night dinners at the Hummel-Hudson household. Back then, it had been a source of awe for him, to see a family that was so united, and even more so when they warmly included without a second's hesitation. There had been so many evenings spent with them, sat at the table between Kurt and his father, feeling like he belonged, Carole asking him about school and his plans for the weekend, Finn – and at remembering him his heart always tugged painfully, the loss still too shocking despite the years – inviting him to hang out with him and the guys or asking him if he wanted to play videogames later.

This was a much more formal affair, as everything was with the Andersons. Despite all the changes and all the improvements, there was still a rigidity where there shouldn't be one, too many please and thank yous, too many years of politeness ingraved into the Anderson brothers that Blaine had a harder time forgetting than his brother. It made him miss the warmth and comfort he had found in those Friday night dinners long, long ago.

Having Cooper around helped – he was still as immature and self-centered as he had always been, though he had soften considerably. He joked and teased everyone, even their father, and always strived to make everyone laugh. He often succeeded.

“So,” Pam Anderson said, a big smile on her face as she turned to her granddaughter. “Are you excited to start kindergarten next week, Olivia?”

Olivia grinned. “Yes, I am! I want to see my friends every day and learn a lot of stuff!” She reached for a dinner roll and took a big bite out of it, not bothering to finish chewing before she continued: “And daddy said we can do something fun this weekend!”

“Honey, please don't talk with your mouth full,” Blaine chastised her, as he grabbed a napkin and wiped her face, earning a little glare from her.

“I'm just so excited, daddy!” She exclaimed, bouncing a bit on her chair. “Aren't you going to tell me what we're going to do?”

Blaine smiled down at her as he reached for the salad bowl. “Whatever you want, Ollie. We just need to make a stop at the mall to get you a new pair of sneakers.”

“Great!” Olivia said, and looked thoughtful for a moment, as if she was brainstorming possible plans.

“How's everything at Dalton, Blaine?” Maggie asked from the other side of the table. She was a lovely woman, her furious red hair a slight mirror of her fierce spirit.

Blaine caught them up on his work and the setlists he had been working on for his first few lessons of the year, before the conversation moved onto Maggie's work. She had closed a sale on a house nearby and was very excited about it because the people she had been working with had been very difficult to please.

The rest of dinner transpired in the same fashion, a family catching up on what everyone had been up to that week. After a cup of coffee and a slice of Pam's wonderful lemon cake, Blaine picked up Olivia, who was curled up on the couch, nearly asleep, and announced he had to leave to put her to bed.

George Anderson stood up and clasped his son on the shoulder. “I'll walk you out, Blaine.”

His father had probably been the person who had been the most distant, but Blaine loved how much of an effort he made these days. It had been quite a struggle for the oldest Anderson to come to terms with a lot of things regarding his youngest son, but he had eventually been able to see past the stuff he didn't understand and accept him fully, especially since he loved his granddaughter dearly.

Blaine buckled his daughter into the booster seat and then straightened up to say goodnight to his dad. “I'll see you next week?”

“Of course, son,” George nodded. “Let us know if you need help with Olivia. I know how hectic things are once the school year starts again.”

“I'm sure I'll have to take you up on that offer soon,” Blaine said, with a little chuckle. He got into the car and rolled the window down as he turned the engine on. “Goodnight, dad.”

“Goodnight, Blaine.”

Olivia waved sleepily as he pulled out of the driveway.

They were almost home when she spoke, startling him because he was sure she had fallen asleep.

“Daddy?” She muttered. “Am I going to see my other daddy this weekend, too?”

Blaine stayed silent for a moment. He looked at her through the rearview mirror, and smiled, because he would always smile for her. “I don't know, sweetie. I'll call him tomorrow and let you know, okay?”

Talking to his ex-husband wasn't exactly something he looked forward to, not with the way things had been like with Patrick lately.

But Olivia wanted to see him, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

He managed to push it off until lunch time.

When there was no reason for him not to call his ex-husband anymore, Blaine decided to man up and just make the call.

He sat at his desk, the window cracked open behind him to allow some of the lovely breeze in, and dialed the number, while he poked absently at his chicken salad. Patrick picked up the call on the third ring.

“Hello, Blaine.”

Blaine still remembered the days when his name would be uttered with love, like it was something so wonderful it just _had_ to be cherished. But now Patrick said it like he would say any other name – his neighbor's, his old college professor's, a patient's. It was charged with the due respect, but devoid of love. It erased their entire history.

“Hey, Patrick. I hope this is not a bad time?” He asked.

“No, no, I'm just leaving my office to grab some lunch. What's up?” There was a lot of noise on Patrick's end and Blaine guessed he was making his way through the hospital towards the cafeteria.

“Well, Olivia was wondering if you're going to come see her this weekend,” Blaine explained, deciding there was no reason to beat around the bush. “She's excited about going back to school on Monday, but she was hoping to spend time with you first. Maybe you can come pick her up and take her somewhere?”

Patrick hummed, to indicate he had heard him but was considering his options. After a moment, he said: “Well, I guess I could stop by on Saturday and take her to the movies or something. Is noon okay?”

Blaine nodded, despite the fact that Patrick couldn't exactly see him. “Alright, that works for me. I'll let her know.”

“Great. I gotta go, Blaine. See you Saturday?” Patrick muttered.

Blaine remembered when they first started dating, how they would stay up all night just talking and talking until the sun came out and they fell asleep pressed together. Now they seemed to have nothing to say to each other. He couldn't help but feel sad at the thought.

“I'll see you on Saturday,” he echoed, and he hadn't quite finished talking when the line went dead.

He dropped his phone on the desk and went back to his salad, but he really didn't have much appetite. He looked down at his finger – the one where not that long ago there had been a wedding band – and wondered if he would ever get used to being alone.

But then he reminded himself that, as long as he had Olivia, he would never be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter!  
> I will see you again on Saturday.   
> Love,  
> L.-


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday!  
> I hope you all had a wonderful week. Thank you so much for the comments on the previous chapter. Sorry I haven't been great about replying to them lately (it's been difficult adapting to going to work again after a whole year at home!), but I'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying the story so far!  
> Socially-distanced high fives to Christine for her awesome help. Best beta ever!  
> Enjoy!

Kurt turned around the corner and, for a moment, the sun was on his face, almost blinding him. He shielded his eyes and found the garage, the large Hummel and Sons sign a little worn with time. He headed inside, the familiar sounds of tools, the smell of car oil, the old radio in the corner playing the same station Burt had listened to since Kurt was just a kid suddenly hitting him with the feeling of home, of safe. Nothing bad had ever happened to Kurt while being in the garage.

He should have never left.

His father was at the front counter, writing something down as he bobbed his head to the music. He raised his head when he heard footsteps and smiled at Kurt.

“Hey kiddo,” he said, and it felt good to hear him call him that, even if Kurt hadn’t been a kid for over a decade now. “How did it go?”

“It went well,” Kurt replied as he dropped the envelope with flyers and forms to fill out on the counter. “I’m glad I thought to grab his birth certificate before I left New York. It was a little harder to explain why I don’t have any documentation that proves I live in Lima, but I put you down as a reference.” He ran a hand down his tired face. He hadn’t been sleeping much and it was starting to take a toll on him. “I promised I would get all of that sorted out in the next couple of weeks, though.”

Burt watched him for a moment, as if also noticing his exhaustion. “Well, that’s good, then. One less thing to worry about, right?” He sounded hopeful.

Kurt tried to smile and failed horribly. “Right.”

His father’s heavy hand fell on his shoulder and Kurt was glad he managed to hold his flinching back, but he was sure Burt still felt the tension growing in his body at the touch. God, this was his father. The man who would jump in front of a train in order to stop his son from getting hurt. He really needed to get his shit together.

“One step at a time, Kurt,” Burt reminded him as he removed his hand carefully. “Things will fall into place eventually. Just take it easy, okay?”

“Sure,” Kurt muttered, as he looked around the shop. “Where is he, by the way? Did he give you any trouble?”

“Not at all,” Burt reassured him with a little chuckle. His eyes were filled with delight, and Kurt felt a pang of guilt – he had kept his father away from his grandchild for so long… “He’s right here, in my office, playing.”

He pushed the door open wider so Kurt could see Finn sitting on the floor, surrounded by his little cars in every color of the rainbow, holding a wrench, his tiny pink tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, completely focused on what he was doing.

“Hey sweetie,” Kurt said, coming around the counter to go into the office. Finn looked up with a huge grin. “What do you have there?”

“I’m fixing cars!” Finn said happily. “I’m going to be a mechanic, just like grandpa!”

Kurt smiled down at him, and it was easier to smile when it was directed to Finn. “That’s wonderful, Finn. I’m sure you’ll be a great mechanic and you’ll make your grandpa really proud."

“He’s a natural,” Burt commented from where he was leaning in the doorway.

Finn beamed up at him, and it was as if the sun had managed to shine through the walls and into the garage, full and bright.

“Alright, sweetie. It’s almost time for lunch, so we need to get home, and let grandpa get back to work,” Kurt said, as he grabbed his son’s backpack and handed it to him. “Pick up your stuff, please.”

Finn’s smile turned into a pout. “Do we have to go? I want to stay a little longer.”

“Do what your daddy says, kiddo,” Burt muttered, leaning down to help Finn pick up his cars. “You can come back some other day. I’ll let you help me fix real cars next time, what do you say?”

Finn’s face lit up again and he nodded eagerly, hurrying to do as he was told. Kurt thanked his dad and watched, his heart feeling warmer than it had in a long time, as Finn ran at full speed towards Burt and hugged his legs so tightly, Burt had a difficult time trying to peel him off to give him a proper hug.

Maybe if he hadn’t pushed his family out of his life, if he had allowed his father to see his son, nothing would have gone wrong. Maybe he wouldn’t feel as broken as he did now…

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts – it was enough that they plagued him at night when all he could do was stare at the ceiling and try to focus on the soft sound of Finn breathing calmly as he slept – and waved at his dad as he grabbed his son’s hand in his, pulling him towards the exit.

Finn babbled excitedly all the way back home. It was such a welcomed change. Finn had never been a very loud kid, and he only ever spoke softly, even hesitantly. It was a consequence of growing in a home where attracting attention to yourself could be dangerous, and Kurt knew it. Kurt knew his son had learned to be careful even before he learned to speak full sentences, and it killed him. It killed him that he hadn’t done anything sooner.

But Finn was now slowly opening up, as if he sensed the worst was over, constantly encouraged by Carole and Burt, who were quick to show him affection and acceptance, as they had done with their own children.

Finn was still talking excitedly when they arrived at the house and Kurt started working on lunch, making sure to pay attention to all of the happy anecdotes his son had collected that morning. Eventually, Kurt sat at the kitchen table in front of him, a plate of mac and cheese (with a few veggies hidden so Finn wouldn’t pick them out or push them away on his plate) in front of his son and a cup of coffee for him (his appetite was still eluding him sometimes, so he never bothered eating when he was alone with his son, who never really noticed) and decided it was the perfect time to have the conversation he had been planning since the previous night.

“So, sweetie. You know I left you with grandpa today because I had some errands to run this morning?” Kurt asked, and waited until Finn nodded to continue. “Well, I went to look at a really nice school for you.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “School?” He asked, in a low voice. He looked terrified.

“Yes,” Kurt said, and reached across the table to brush his hair back lovingly. “I know it sounds scary, but it’ll be so good for you. You’ll get to make friends your age, and learn new things…”

“Why can’t I just go to the garage with grandpa? I learned new things!” Finn protested, holding onto his fork so tightly his knuckles went white.

“I know you did, and you can still go to the garage as much as grandpa wants you to, okay?” Kurt said, doing his best to keep his voice calm. “But you should have started school already, sweetie. You should have gone to preschool, made friends, had playdates… I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you then. But we came here to have a better life, a happier life, remember? And part of that means giving you every opportunity to grow happy, healthy and safe.”

Finn looked down at his food thoughtfully, so Kurt took a sip of coffee and let him work out whatever he was trying to work out. He finally glanced up at him, his blue eyes so much like his own but brighter, still. At least he hadn’t lost his spark. There was still a possibility Kurt hadn't screwed everything up beyond repair.

“Are you happy, daddy?” He asked then, and Kurt felt as if someone had punched him in the chest and stolen all his oxygen.

It should have been easy, answering that question. But it wasn’t.

“I’m trying to be,” he said at last, because he thought it was better to be honest, to show him it was okay not to be okay all the time. He didn’t want Finn to think he had to hide what he felt, like he’d done for too many years. “But I’m always happy when I’m with you, and I’m happy when you’re happy and safe.”

Finn nodded slowly and took a bite of his food, chewing slowly as he seemed to think again. Kurt waited patiently again.

“What will you do while I’m at school? If you’re happy when I’m with you, does that mean you’ll be sad?” He asked, his little face so serious that Kurt wanted to kiss his frown away.

“No, I won’t be sad. Because I know you’ll be doing something that’s good for you,” Kurt said, and tried not to think about his own experiences in school. Times had changed. It didn’t mean his son would have to go through hell as he did. And he did remember kindergarten rather fondly – kids hadn’t been that mean to him back then. “And I will pick you up every day and you get to tell me all about your new friends and all the things you learned. And while you’re at school, I will be busy. I need to find a job, sweetie. You going to school and me working is part of the new life we’re starting.”

Finn continued to eat for a couple of minutes, and Kurt swirled his coffee around in his mug, the dark liquid something to focus on while he waited.

“Will he come be part of our new life?” Finn asked then, and Kurt’s entire world seemed to stop.

 _He_. Kurt didn’t need to ask him what he was talking about. He couldn’t remember when Finn had stopped calling Gabriel his dad, or if he had ever even started. That should have been yet another sign.

“No,” he answered firmly. “No, honey. That’s over now. We won’t see him again.”

Finn watched him quietly, as if he was trying to read something on his dad’s face, and then nodded very slowly. “Okay. I’ll go to school. I really like our new life, daddy. Maybe I’ll like school, too.”

Kurt smiled, but felt like crying.

* * *

Olivia woke up unusually early on Saturday morning and slipped into Blaine's bedroom to wake him up. He tried to pull her down and snuggle her back to sleep, but she wasn't having it, and once your five year old is jumping up and down on your bed, nearly kicking you in the balls in the process, there's not much hope for sleep left. So Blaine sighed and got up, yawning and trying to console himself with the thought of coffee.

He made breakfast while Olivia babbled excitedly about all the things she was going to do with her other daddy today. Blaine tried not to feel bad about it – it was normal that Olivia got excited about seeing Patrick, because she didn't spend nearly enough time with him, while Blaine was always with her. She could barely sit still while he did her hair and helped her into her clothes – she had chosen a lovely green dress “ _because it's my other daddy's favorite color_ ” – and then sat in front of the living room window so she could see him arrive, despite the fact that noon was still hours away.

Blaine left her to it and began on his weekend chores. Since sleeping in wasn't an option, he might as well be productive.

She came into the kitchen a million times to ask him what time it was and promptly returned to her spot by the window, her little face almost glued to the glass, her big eyes wandering outside as if scared she would miss her father if she blinked too often.

But when noon came and went, and there were still no sign of Patrick, Blaine bit his lip. He was probably late, or had a last minute patient, or had lost track of time. He would be here. He had to be.

It was almost one o'clock when he called. “Sorry, Blaine. I got tied up with a few things and I'll have to work today, and tomorrow I'm leaving for a conference in Columbus. Can you let Olivia know?”

Blaine bit his lip a little harder to stop himself from telling him to tell her himself. He should have apologized to Olivia, told her how sorry he was that he couldn't see her. He should have cancelled whatever engagements he had to see his daughter, who he hadn't seen in weeks. There was a question on the tip of Blaine's tongue, one that he was too scared to ask, too scared to know the answer to.

He hung up and put the phone down on the kitchen counter, next to the pile of laundry he needed to fold, next to the cup of coffee that had gone cold as he made the grocery list, next to Olivia's favorite pair of jeans that she refused to get rid of and that Blaine needed to sew another patch on in order to hide the hole she had made in one of the knees.

It was so hard, being a single dad. It was so hard to have all of the responsibility. It was so hard to have no one to lean onto when he was tired.

But it was even harder to walk into the living room and break his daughter's little heart.

* * *

On Monday morning, Kurt reached to turn the alarm off before it could wake Finn. He had been staring at the ceiling, watching as the sunlight spilled further and further away onto it, focusing on the birds chirping on the tree outside the window, trying not to think about a canary he’d had a long time ago, about how it had died and its voice had been silenced forever.

He carefully pushed the blankets off and got up, casting one last glance at Finn to make sure he was still asleep, and he slipped into the bathroom for a shower. His whole body felt taut with exhaustion, like a rubber band pulled too tight and about to snap. He wondered how long he would be able to go on with these sleepless nights.

He didn’t like the images that appeared behind his eyelids when he tried to sleep.

Some mornings he felt like it had been a lifetime since he had returned to Lima, but when he looked at himself in the mirror, he remembered it had been only a handful of days, and that his face still carried the memories. It was better, of course. His eye was no longer swollen shut, but he looked like a raccoon, and the cuts on his eyebrow, cheekbone and lip were still there, healing, no longer bleeding, but too present for his taste. In a few weeks, it would all vanish, his face would go back to normal, his skin would no longer be cracked and stained with the vestiges of that night.

But he would never forget. The wounds would heal, but he didn’t think he would.

Carole was already in the kitchen when he walked in a few minutes later, and she smiled at him as she poured him a cup of coffee.

“Big day today, huh?” She said, doing her best to sound cheerful and excited.

Sometimes Kurt thought he had made a mistake coming here. It was obviously taking a toll on his parents, seeing him like this, knowing what he had gone through. But where else was he supposed to take Finn?

Yes, today was a big day, but it didn’t feel like a good one.

“Thanks,” he said simply as he accepted the cup. “I’m going to make some chocolate chip pancakes for Finn, is that okay?”

“Honey, you don’t need to ask every time you want to cook something. Just go ahead. This is your home,” she said gently, and took the bowl of cut-up fruit she had made for herself and the cup of coffee to the kitchen table, leaving Kurt at the counter to work on breakfast for his son.

Kurt didn’t say anything. It was weighing on him, that he contributed nothing but trouble, but two extra mouths to feed. His father was at an age where he should be thinking about retiring and enjoying his life, and instead, he was working and supporting his thirty year old son and his grandchild.

Burt came downstairs a few minutes later and then went right back up when he saw Finn wasn’t up yet. He always loved to have any excuse he could to spend time with his grandson, even if it was something as simple as waking him up in the morning. They came back down together, Finn still clinging sleepily to Burt’s neck but smiling, just as Kurt finished rearranging his breakfast on a plate.

“Good morning, daddy!” He exclaimed. He squealed in delight when he saw his dad had made a smiley face on his pancakes using fruit. “Looks yummy!”

“Eat all of it, champ. You’re going to need your strength today, to play and make new friends!” Burt said, as he put him down on his chair. He then turned to his son. “Slept okay?”

Kurt nodded and leaned to press a kiss to his son’s forehead. “Do you want orange juice?”

“Yes, please!” Finn replied, his mouth already stuffed with the pancakes.

Carole was watching him with a gentle smile on her face, her eyes a little bright, and Kurt knew she was thinking about her own son, about all those mornings they had watched Finn inhale food like he was scared it would run out.

Life had been so simple back then.

* * *

Blaine woke up to Olivia slipping quietly into his bed and snuggling against his side just a few minutes before his alarm was supposed to go off. He sighed contentedly and pulled her closer, smelling the floral scent of her shampoo.

“Good morning, baby,” he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

“Hi, daddy,” she replied, her voice just a whisper.

She had been quite sad during the weekend, and no matter what Blaine did to cheer her up, she had still been pretty silent and off after Patrick’s cancellation on Saturday. He knew she had been looking forward to seeing her other dad, and Blaine knew he couldn’t avoid talking to Patrick about it much longer, but he wasn’t sure what consequences that conversation would bring, and if he was ready to deal with them. It was easier focusing on cheering Olivia up, even if he couldn’t put it off forever.

“Can I stay with uncle Coop today? I don’t want to go to school,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

Blaine began to thread his fingers through her soft hair, something that never failed to calm her when she was upset. “Sorry, sweetie. It’s the first day of school, you can’t miss the first day. But I promise you can hang out with your uncle soon, alright?” She nodded slowly, and so Blaine decided it was time to try to get her to be a bit more excited about today. “Think about how many new friends you could meet today! And I’m sure your new teacher will be amazing as well.”

“Maybe,” she conceded, not sounding as excited as he hoped.

“Do you want to wear your new dress today? The one with all the flowers?” He suggested, and now she perked up a bit. She had chosen the dress herself the last time they went shopping and she had been saving it for a special occasion.

Soon they were up and at the kitchen counter, making breakfast together (Olivia loved to crack the eggs and then watch as they sizzled on the pan while Blaine stirred them). She sat at the table to eat while Blaine sipped on a cup of coffee and took bites off his breakfast as he prepared her lunch, packing it carefully into her purple lunch box – ham and cheese sandwiches, enough that she would be able to share with a friend, and carrot sticks that he hoped wouldn’t go untouched, and a banana muffin and some cut up fruit. He added a little note, taping it to the inside of the lid: “Have a great first day, Ollie! Love you to the moon and back, daddy.” He hoped it would make her smile when she found it.

After breakfast, he helped her get ready. She twirled in her dress in front of the mirror and turned to look at him with a big smile on her face, her sadness forgotten for now.

“How do I look, daddy?” She asked.

Blaine smiled down at her and kissed her forehead, before he said: “You look like the love of my life.”

She giggled in delight as she reached for her backpack.

Blaine wished Patrick could see what he was missing out on.

* * *

Finn was quiet as they walked to school, his small hand in Kurt’s, his new backpack, a present from Carole, bumping against his back. He looked calm, not as nervous as Kurt thought he would be, and Kurt took a deep breath and hoped he would have a nice day.

Sometimes he couldn’t believe how big his baby was. The past five years had flown by.

It was still relatively early when they arrived, but the doors were open and children were being welcomed inside, most of them looking sleepy and letting their parents push them in the right direction. Finn looked around with wide eyes and then up at his dad.

“It’ll be okay,” Kurt said, readjusting his sunglasses to make sure the worst of his bruising wasn’t visible. “You’ll have fun, you’ll see.”

Finn simply nodded and let his dad guide him inside. They followed the instructions until they found his classroom – there were a few kids inside already, and the teacher smiled at them as they approached, welcoming Finn with a huge smile and shaking Kurt’s hand as she introduced herself as Miss Mayra.

“Why don’t you go inside and put your things in your cubicle, Finn?” She said with kindness, pointing at the big block of cubicles where some of the kids had already stuffed their backpacks and lunch boxes. “We’ll get started as soon as everyone’s here.”

Finn now turned to Kurt, a question in his eyes, and Kurt kneeled on the floor with some difficulty – his body still ached, and he wondered if it would ever stop.

“It’s okay. Do as Miss Mayra says,” he said, and then pulled him into his arms for a hug. “I’m really proud of you, Finn. You’re brave and wonderful.”

Finn’s little arms went around his neck and he held on tightly for a few seconds. “I’m going to be really good, daddy. I’ll make a million friends, and then we’ll be happy, right? We’ll have a super happy life?”

There was a lump in Kurt’s throat, and he wasn’t sure he could speak without crying, so he simply nodded and pressed a kiss to Finn’s head, before handing him his lunch box and sending him into the classroom.

He watched as he walked inside, hesitantly at first, looking at the other children with caution, before he reached the cubicles in the back and he scanned them, trying to recognize his name. Kurt turned around and walked down the hallway and towards the exit, feeling his chest so tight he could hardly breathe. But this was good. His little boy was going to be just fine. They had survived worse than first days at school.

Once he was back outside, he stopped for a moment on the sidewalk, taking deep breaths to calm himself. His vision was blurry with unshed tears, so he removed his sunglasses to wipe them off.

Finn was going to be okay, and maybe, one day, he would be too.

* * *

It was a race against the clock for Blaine to drop Olivia off at school and then make it in time to Dalton. He introduced himself to her teacher and then hugged his daughter and wished her a good day, before he walked out of the building, checking his phone to make sure he wasn’t running late.

He looked up just in time to see a man standing on the sidewalk, his back to him, as a little kid who was running by bumped against him, making him drop his sunglasses. Out of reflex, Blaine leaned down and picked them up to hand them back to the man, and then stood frozen as they looked at each other, time standing still, voices of children running around them suddenly drowned and silenced, because this?

This was Kurt Hummel, his ex-fiancé.

A public school in Ohio was the last place where Blaine had thought he would see him again, and even if that hadn’t been a shock, his face was.

Bruises littered his skin, one of his blue eyes surrounded by black and purple, a stark contrast to his usual and strikingly familiar paleness. Blaine had trailed every inch of him with his fingers, with his mouth, and had never found a single imperfection. He needed to look away from his face, because it looked so painful that he couldn’t take it anymore, and let his eyes move quickly down his body, only to discover that didn’t help, because he looked so skinny and unlike the Kurt he had once known and loved. His clothes weren’t as pristine as they had once been either – Blaine remembered that he had been the only one with the privilege to see him dressed down, but when he was out in the world, there had never been a thread out of place, not a wrinkle in sight. He had always looked like he had walked right out of a runway. But now he looked like the jeans and short-sleeve button down were swallowing him, loose around his thin body.

He looked back up to his face, only to see Kurt’s eyes were wide, almost scared.

Blaine cleared his throat and tried not to think about the last time he had seen him – sitting across from him at a restaurant table, rain falling down tempestuously outside while Blaine’s heart got broken and his life changed forever.

“Hi, Kurt,” he said. He offered the sunglasses that he was still holding.

Kurt took them and immediately slipped them on his face, as if it did anything to hide the marks on his skin. “Hi,” he said, his voice small.

Blaine shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He didn’t know what the protocol was for when you randomly ran into your ex-fiancé looking like someone used him as a punching bag. “I didn’t know you were back in Ohio,” he commented, mostly because it was the first thing that popped up in his suddenly dizzy head. But what he really wanted to ask, he wasn’t sure if he could, even if it repeated in his mind like the tolling of a bell: _are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay?_

“Yes, it’s… uhm, it’s a recent thing,” he muttered uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at Blaine.

“We should catch up someday,” Blaine said, and then groaned internally – why was he doing this? This was the guy who had broken him into so many pieces, he thought he would never put himself back together. “Have coffee or something.”

Kurt looked completely taken aback by his words, so before he accepted and Blaine said something even more idiotic, he glanced down at his phone to check the time, and realized he had been in such a trance that he would be late if he didn’t run now.

“Damn, I’m going to be late for work,” he said under his breath. “It was… uh, it was nice to see you.”

It was a lie and they both knew it.

Kurt nodded and took a step back, ready to bolt. “Bye, Blaine.”

Blaine’s fingers tightened around his phone so hard he almost cracked the screen. He hadn’t heard him say his name in so long…

And it shouldn’t affect him. Kurt had almost cost him everything.

“See you,” he said, and turned around to flee towards his car.

As he drove to Dalton, music playing loudly enough to drown out his own thoughts, he tried to ignore the way his heart was racing in his chest.

He thought about Kurt Hummel for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to read your reactions to this chapter. I hope you liked it!  
> The pace will pick up a bit now that all the pieces are placed.  
> Thank you for reading!  
> Love,  
> L.-


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday my darlings!  
> I hope you're having a wonderful week. Thank you for the comments on the previous chapter. I was very pleased with your reactions to Blaine and Kurt's first encounter!  
> Thank you to Christine for her endless patience!  
> Enjoy!

His chest felt so tight he was shocked he didn't collapse on the middle of the street. He forced his legs to work, to take him somewhere safe, far away from that school.

Far away from Blaine.

He had been so busy trying to run away from all the horrible things in New York City that he didn't stop to think he could find even older ghosts in the one place where he thought he would be safe.

Kurt gasped for breath. It was as if the encounter had revived the pain in each and every single one of his bruises, even the ones that ran so deep no one could see. He was glad he had left Finn at school, where he was safe, because he wasn't sure he could keep him safe himself, not right now.

Somewhere in his foggy mind, he wondered if this was what a panic attack felt like.

Needing to stop, he plastered his back against the wall of a hardware store and closed his eyes. The images that plagued him lately, the ones of Gabriel pushing him, hitting him, insulting him, touching him, were now mixed with old memories – Blaine in his vibrant yellow suit with a ring in his hand; Blaine grabbing his hand to lead him down a hallway; Blaine in his dimly lit bedroom, his fingers trembling as he brushed them across Kurt's naked skin, a reverent smile on his face; Blaine telling him he had cheated in the middle of Battery Park in New York, their hearts breaking as they realized it was all over; Blaine surprising him on Christmas, every Christmas, whether with a flirty duet, a promise ring and a beautiful speech, an unexpected visit; Blaine that night, rain splattered on his shoulders, tears in his eyes and then the angry set of his mouth as he said: “ _I will never forgive you for this_.”

Kurt had never seen him again. He had stayed the night at his friend Elliot's apartment, and when he returned to the loft the following afternoon, all of Blaine's belongings were gone.

Once, in a moment of weakness, Kurt had tried to see what Blaine was up to and stalked him on social media, only to realize Blaine had blocked him. He never tried again, never asked any of their mutual friends for news.

That had been the beginning of everything that had gone wrong in Kurt's life, as if Blaine had unknowingly been the glue holding every piece together.

Somehow, Kurt managed to get to the garage – it hadn't been his plan to go there, but it was closer than the house, and for some reason, he needed his dad. He had always needed him, and knew he would never stop needing him. It made him feel bad; he was an adult who should have been capable of dealing with his own shit, most of which was his own damn fault. But he always ran back to daddy, hoping he would shield him from the worst of it.

It wasn't the first time Kurt felt disgusted with himself, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

He practically stumbled into the garage, and was relieved to find his father alone at the front desk, sipping coffee – he hoped it was decaf – as he went through some forms that were piled in front of him. Burt looked up as soon as he heard someone come in, and Kurt must have looked like shit – even more than he usually did lately – because he immediately put the mug down, coffee spilling over the edge and staining the pages with rich brown.

“Kurt?” He said, coming around the counter. “What’s going on?”

For the first time since Kurt had been back in Ohio, he allowed himself to fall into his father’s arms, fingers clinging tightly to the dark gray fabric of his coverall, and buried his face on his shoulder, as he struggled to breathe.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Burt muttered, holding him carefully, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch his son. When Kurt didn’t retreat, though, his arms went around him more firmly, supporting his weight. “You’re scaring me, kiddo. Tell me what’s wrong. Is Finn okay?”

Kurt forced himself to nod, since words weren’t exactly easy at the moment, just to assuage his father. He felt so stupid. Why couldn’t he stop breaking down for everything? He was weak. He was useless. He couldn’t even take his son to his first day of kindergarten without having a panic attack.

Every thought that echoed in his head seemed to be screamed at him in Gabriel’s voice.

Slowly, Burt guided him into his office. Kurt was vaguely aware of him calling to one of his employees over his shoulder to take over at the front desk. Soon, he was being gently pushed onto the worn leather couch in the corner, the one that had been there since Kurt was a little kid who came to the garage after school to make his homework and play. It felt familiar against his hands and it somehow helped him a little bit. Burt kept a hand on his forearm, as if afraid to break contact completely.

“Breathe, Kurt. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

_You’re such a freak, Kurt. You always overreact, Kurt. You can’t do anything right, Kurt._

_Look at what you make do! Everything’s your fault, Kurt._

Kurt whimpered, as the memories threatened to drown him. Would they ever go away?

“Here,” Burt said, after a few moments. “Have some water.”

A glass was pressed into his hand and Kurt gulped it down too quickly, almost choking on it, but it helped shake him off the memories and the voices in his head.

“There you go,” Burt said, as he rubbed his back comfortingly. “That’s it, kiddo. You’re fine.”

Burt took the empty glass from him and Kurt dropped his head into his hands. Now that the worst was over he felt so stupid…

“Finn’s okay,” he said, and his voice sounded a little hoarse. “I dropped him off at school. He was okay…”

“I’m glad. But what happened?” Burt asked, concern clear in his face.

It had been such a shock, to look up from the ground where his sunglasses were being picked up by a stranger and find the familiar honey eyes staring at him. Blaine hadn’t changed much, not really. His hair was still styled the same way, and he must have stuck to the skincare routine Kurt had dropped long ago, because his skin was flawless. The only change had been in the set of his shoulders – broader, straighter, like he carried himself differently now.

“I ran into Blaine,” he said at last.

Burt frowned and his hand stopped rubbing his back. “Blaine?”

“He was there. At school. I don’t…” Kurt paused, breathed, reminded himself to breathe. “He saw me. He…” He groaned and told himself not to cry. “God, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why would you be embarrassed, Kurt?” Burt asked, his patience infinite. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Dad, look at me!” He exclaimed, sitting straighter on the couch and gesturing at himself, at the mess on his face. “I can’t even imagine what he must have thought of me…” He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair, tugging a little at the strands with his fingers. “He must have thought I deserved it, whatever happened to me, after what I did to him.”

“Kurt!” Burt said, his voice loud, vibrating against the walls of his small office. Kurt froze, and Burt instantly seemed to regret it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. But you must know that’s not true. No one would think that…”

“He must have,” Kurt insisted. “He must have thought so…”

“I think it’s you who believes you deserved it,” Burt pointed out, frowning at him, and Kurt snapped his eyes back to his father. “And that’s messed up, Kurt. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. You didn’t do anything wrong…”

“I hurt Blaine,” Kurt said, and his name felt like a thorn piercing his heart. He wanted to stop saying it but at the same time he wanted to hear it again, and again. “And then Gabriel hurt me. That sounds pretty fair.”

“You never _hit_ Blaine, Kurt,” Burt retorted, and he seemed shocked at what he was hearing. Great, now his father would realize how extremely and deeply fucked up he was, too. “You never punched him until his face was nothing but a canvas of bruises. You two were young and made mistakes. That’s normal. People get hurt by relationships all the time. But it’s nowhere near the same to what happened to you with Gabriel.”

_I will never forgive you for this._

“I’m sure Blaine isn’t perfect, but he was always decent and kind,” Burt continued, his eyes piercing into Kurt’s as if trying to make him understand, to pay attention. “I don’t think he would ever wish you got hurt, no matter how much you hurt him ten years ago.”

“I didn’t think he would be in Ohio,” Kurt muttered quietly. “I had no idea where he was, I thought maybe he was still in New York. I never saw him at NYADA again, but I assumed he was still…” He cut off, and shook his head. He had forbidden himself from thinking about him for so long. What good would it do?

His father had always been able to see right through him. “Did you ever regret breaking it off with him?”

Kurt’s heart lurched against his ribcage. He couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t talk about it.

Burt nodded, as if realizing that was too complicated a question, as if he understood way more than Kurt was letting on. He hesitated, but finally he said: “Kurt, I’m here for you, and Carole’s here for you, but there are things we can’t help you with.” It looked like it pained him to say that, as if not being able to help his son was the worst thing he could imagine. “What you went through… it’s a very complex thing. And you spent years in an abusive situation, which has obviously had consequences beyond the physical damage that we can all see. There’s stuff you need to work on and fix, and maybe… maybe you should seek help.”

Kurt knew his father was right, that what he was saying was reasonable. But he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t sit with a stranger and tell them about the years of being pushed around and humiliated, about how he had reached a point in which he honestly thought he deserved it for all the mistakes he had made. He couldn’t face those facts, those memories. It was enough that he still relived them every night when he tried to sleep. He couldn’t talk about them in the light of day, too.

He nodded slowly. “I’ll think about it, okay?” He promised, because it was the easiest way out, at least for now.

Burt seemed to see right through him, but he didn’t push him. “Did Blaine say anything?”

Kurt sighed and leaned back against the couch. His chest had stopped feeling so tight he couldn’t breathe. “That we should catch up someday? Why the hell would he even want that?”

Burt shrugged. “Like I said, he’s always been decent and kind. Maybe he was worried.”

“Right,” Kurt conceded, but it was clear he did not agree. “I think it just caught him off guard, running into me. He said the first thing that popped into this head.”

“Also possible,” Burt said.

Kurt let his eyes wander around the little office and saw the mess of files all over the desk and cabinets. He latched into the opportunity to change the subject. “Dad, this place is a mess.”

Burt chuckled under his breath. “I’m short on staff, Kurt. Paul is recovering from a surgery and Billy is out on vacation. This is as organized as I can keep stuff.”

Kurt shook his head, disapprovingly. “Well, we need to do something about that.”

Burt gestured at his desk. “Be my guest, son. I’m gonna go check if Marty needs any help.”

Kurt waved him off as he sat at the desk. This was what he needed – a menial task, something that would keep his mind occupied.

He got to work, only looking up from the paper work when Burt brought him a cup of coffee a few minutes later – it was not decaf which was wonderful to him, but not for his dad and he was going to reprimand him for it later – thanking him with a smile, and did not allow himself to think about Gabriel or Blaine or anything else.

He kept pushing everything down and hoped he wouldn’t eventually explode in the worst way.

* * *

By the time he had to pick Finn back up, Kurt was torn. He was half anxious he would run into Blaine again, but also really excited to see his son again and know how his day had been. It was unusual for him to spend so many hours apart from his little boy – back in New York, he had been with him constantly, because he couldn't count on Gabriel to take care of him, and since he had been in Ohio, he had only left him with Carole or his dad for very short periods while he ran errands. This was very, very new to him, and though he knew it would be good for the both of them, he didn't love it.

He made sure to arrive right on time, and soon his son was running towards him, his arms raised above his head and the biggest grin on his face: “Daddy! Daddy, you're here!”

Kurt picked him up in his arms and held him tightly to his chest. He allowed himself a moment to breathe him in – he smelled like home and happiness, every time – closing his eyes and relaxing slightly into the embrace.

“Hey, honey. Did you have a nice day?” He asked, as he began to make his way away from the school. He didn't look around, just focused on his son. He didn't want to see Blaine again.

“Yes, daddy!” Finn replied. “It was fun. But there were so many kids and they were so loud.” He rested his head down on Kurt's shoulder, his little arms tightening around his neck. “Miss Mayra is really nice, though. She made us tell her our names and what we liked to do and we played a lot of games.”

“That's great, Finn. I'm so happy you had a good first day,” Kurt said, turning his head so he could drop a quick kiss on Finn's forehead.

“You really are happy, daddy?” Finn asked quietly, his voice a whisper that shot straight to Kurt's heart, full of hope.

Kurt felt the tension growing in his body, but he ignored it. He found the smile he always had ready for his boy, and said: “Yes, Finn. I'm happy.”

Maybe one day he would say that and it would be the truth.

* * *

Blaine was taken by surprise when Olivia almost tackled him, her arms going around his legs and nearly bumping her head against his groin. He yelped and she laughed, the little devil.

“Hi Ollie. Had a good first day?” He asked distractedly, as he looked around at all the other parents and their children shrieking in excitement.

Olivia began to talk a mile a minute about her teacher and all her new classmates, as well as her old friends. He told him about the activities they had done and the games they had played. “... and then during lunch I exchanged all my carrot sticks for half a chocolate chip cookie and it was super yummy. Daddy? Are you listening, daddy?”

Blaine's attention snapped back to his daughter and he realized what he had been doing. He sighed and bent over to scoop her up in his arms, holding her tightly. “Sorry, baby. Daddy's just a little distracted.”

He walked with her to the car, and strapped her in her booster seat, before he went around the car towards the driver's seat. Before getting in himself, he took one last look around.

Kurt wasn't there, it seemed.

Blaine had no idea what he had been doing there in the first place, but maybe it had been nothing but a coincidence. He decided it was not something he could keep thinking about, even if it had been the main thing circling his thoughts that day, even making him lose his concentration during his lessons that day. It had been a less than stellar first day for him.

Tomorrow? Tomorrow would have to be better.

It wasn't his problem, whatever had happened to Kurt. Anything that happened to him had stopped being Blaine's problem the night he had ripped his heart from his chest in a crowded restaurant. He wasn't responsible for Kurt's wellbeing, for his happiness, for his safety.

And yet, he couldn't stop thinking about him, wondering if he was alright.

The bruises on his face had looked painful, and they were mostly faded. He couldn't even imagine what he had looked like when they were fresh. Or how they had gotten there in the first place.

Blaine's fingers tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

“Can we go home, daddy?” Olivia asked, huffing in annoyance a little, and they really, _really_ needed to work on her attitude. “I'm going to miss my show.”

He cleared his throat and turned the key in the ignition. “Sure thing, baby. Let's go home.”

He gave one last glance at the school in the rearview mirror before he drove away.

* * *

The sounds of Olivia singing and dancing along to her favorite show trailed into the kitchen, where Blaine was standing in front of the stove making dinner, wooden spoon in hand as he stirred the sauce for the mac and cheese she had asked for. It had been her first day back in school, after all, and Blaine felt like spoiling her a little. He would go back to trying to get her to eat more vegetables tomorrow.

And it wasn’t like he was in the mood to think too much about what to cook, anyway.

It had been such a strange day. He felt as if he had been smacked in the face by ghosts of his past. And what a ghost Kurt was.

His cellphone began to ring where it was resting on the counter next to him, his brother’s name flashing on the screen. He grabbed it distractedly and answered the call, shoving the phone between his ear and shoulder as he reached to lower the heat on the water that had begun to boil for the pasta.

“Hey Coop,” he said.

“Hi, Squirt. How was Squirt Junior’s first day?” Cooper asked, and for once Blaine didn’t scoff at the nickname.

“It went well,” Blaine replied, as he grabbed the box of noodles from the cabinet above him. “Do you want to talk to her?”

“Of course I do, but… are you okay? You sound weird,” Cooper murmured, and it warmed his heart and annoyed him at the same time, how much his brother knew him.

“I… yeah,” Blaine bit his lip and hesitated, but… if he didn’t talk to his brother, who would he talk to? And he needed to talk about it. “Something actually happened today when I dropped Olivia off at school. It’s been… well. It’s been on my mind all day.”

“Well, go on, spill,” Cooper said. “What is it?”

Blaine took a deep breath. He knew what his brother would say before he even said it. “I saw Kurt today.”

Silence stretched between them. Cooper didn’t ask which Kurt he was referring to. Everyone knew there was only one Kurt in Blaine’s life and even after ten years, just the sound of his name felt so, so familiar, like no time had passed at all.

“Blaine…” Cooper began, and it seemed like he was getting ready to go on a long, long rant.

“I know,” Blaine interrupted. He knew what Cooper was about to say even before he said it. “I know, Coop. It was just… a coincidence, that’s all.”

“But it’s clearly affected you. Did he say something to you? What the hell was he doing there?” Cooper asked, and he seemed angry, like Kurt had no right to invade the spaces Blaine inhabited.

“Look, I have no idea, okay? We didn’t really talk much. I was shocked to see him, and I think he didn’t expect running into me, either,” Blaine leaned against the counter and let out a heavy sigh. “But, Coop, he looked bad. Really bad. I think someone hurt him. You should have seen his face…”

“Blaine, no,” Cooper said sharply. “No. you can’t get involved again. He tore your life to pieces. You barely even made it after he ended the engagement. You can’t let him in again, no matter what he looked like or what he’s been through.”

“I’m not letting him in,” Blaine protested. “It was just unexpected. I didn’t know he was back in Ohio – I have no idea why he would be back, actually. He loved New York. Maybe he’s just visiting his family? But what was he doing at the school?”

“You’re asking too many questions,” Cooper cut him off. “It sounds like you’re interested, and Blaine, I don’t think you can afford to be.”

Blaine ran a hand down his face. He was suddenly tired down to his bones and couldn’t wait to slip into bed and forget this day had even happened. “I have a lot of history with him. I can’t just not care, not when he looked like that. You would understand if you had seen him.”

“I don’t need to see him, Blaine. I had to see _you_ when he broke your heart. That’s enough for me to never want to see that guy ever again,” Cooper’s voice was serious, determined, no traces of his usual goofiness. This was a version of his brother that Blaine didn’t get to see often, but that he had seen plenty of ten years ago, when everything had fallen apart.

Blaine had only been back in Ohio for two days – not that he had realized, since he had been locked away in his bedroom, not even bothering to turn on the lamp as he cried incessantly into his pillow. His mother had tried to get him to eat or even go down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and a conversation, but he hadn’t felt like he could move. He was paralyzed with the pain of everything that had been ripped away from him, pulled out from under his feet like a carpet so, so suddenly, and he had lost every bit of stability he had managed to achieve in the past few years. Just when he thought the path of his life was clearly lay out in front of him, it had shattered, it was gone, and he didn’t know what to do.

Cooper had arrived then, back from Los Angeles after their mother had called him in despair. He had forced his way into Blaine’s room, sat against the headboard and pulled him into his arms without a single word, and Blaine had cried even harder, even though it hadn’t seemed possible. He had clung to his brother until he was so spent he fell asleep.

Cooper hadn’t left his side as he recovered, and healing a broken heart wasn’t an easy thing to do. When Blaine fell into a deep depression, when he thought he would never be able to enjoy anything in his life ever again, Cooper insisted on him seeing a therapist, and drove him to every session himself, always waiting for him at the end of each one with an encouraging smile and a cup of coffee.

If it hadn’t been for his brother, it would have taken Blaine a lot longer to pull himself out of the dark pit of his heartache. Blaine knew how much it had cost Cooper to be there for him – he had dropped everything, lost his job in the credit commercials and his apartment when his friend had to find another roommate to be able to afford rent. But he hadn’t mentioned it once, had never doubted his decision even once. He had become the best brother Blaine could have ever asked for, the one he wasn’t sure he deserved.

In the end, Cooper had no choice but to stay in Ohio. For a while, they both lived again with their parents, which wasn’t ideal in any way. And then Blaine went to college and began working at Dalton and things slowly, slowly fell back into place for him, even if the pain was still lingering in the background, making itself known every now and then.

And Cooper eventually found his own path, too. He had become a life coach (something he was very proud of and something that made Blaine tease him endlessly, but it had been such a Cooper career to choose, he shouldn’t have been surprised) and eventually had met Maggie and fallen in love with her so madly that it made Blaine feel a little less guilty about ruining his brother’s life. Slowly, but surely, life began to improve until neither of them needed to look back anymore.

And now Kurt was back in Ohio.

It threatened to break every bit of progress they both had made in the past decade, and Blaine knew that scared Cooper. It scared him too, a little, because Kurt had always been able to disarm him even with just a quick glance his way, even before they got together, when Blaine was so oblivious that he believed Kurt was nothing but a good friend, that the way he felt about him was merely platonic. But now they were older, wiser, and Blaine was supposed to be able to look at him and not feel the foundations of his life shake like an earthquake.

He guessed Kurt would always have that effect on him.

Things were different now, though. He wasn’t in love with him. It was just that he hadn’t liked seeing Kurt like that. No matter how much heartbreak they had shared, Kurt didn’t deserve to look so hurt.

Blaine threw the dry pasta into the boiling water. “I shouldn’t have said anything…”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Cooper replied immediately. “That’s not the solution. I’m glad you told me, Blaine. I understand why it affects you to see him after all this time, especially if he looked like he’s been through some stuff. But he’s not your responsibility. He’s not a part of your life. You don’t owe him anything, and it’s okay to stay away. It doesn’t make you selfish, or a bad person. You have to put yourself first.”

Blaine stirred the sauce mindlessly and said: “It sounds so easy when you say it like that.”

“And it is,” Cooper insisted with a firm voice. “If you see him again, you can just nod at him in acknowledgement. You don’t even need to talk to him. Maybe he’ll go back to New York soon. Maybe you won’t even see him again.”

Blaine nodded slowly. “I know. It was just a shock, Coop, that’s all.” He paused for a moment and then added: “I hope Burt is okay. Maybe that’s why he’s here? What if something happened to his dad?”

“ _Blaine_ ,” Cooper groaned. “You’re doing it again.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine sighed heavily. “I can’t help it. I like his dad. And Carole. I don’t want anything to happen to them.”

“Please,” Cooper murmured, and he seemed so worried that it made Blaine’s heart shrink slightly in his chest. “Just be smart about this, little brother. It took a long time for you to get over it, it sent you to a very dark place. I don’t ever want to see you like that again. You have to put yourself first. You have a daughter now, Blaine. And we’re all here for you, but you can't let Kurt play with you, mess with you. It’ll affect you and it’ll affect Olivia now, too.”

That managed to sober Blaine up a bit. Cooper was right. He had to think of his daughter, his one and only priority. “Thanks, Coop. You always know exactly what to say.”

“Well, that’s sort of my job,” Cooper chuckled, sounding relieved. “Are you okay, then?”

“I am,” Blaine said honestly. “It was a shock, that’s it. I can’t help being curious about what happened to him, but I’ll try not to obsess over it.” He knew his brother needed a reassurance, that his concern was legitimate. “I promise, Coop. I'm not going to let him hurt me again.”

“Good,” Cooper murmured, pleased. Blaine could almost hear him smile. “Now, can I please talk to my niece? I want to know all about her day.”

Blaine smiled and said goodbye before taking the phone to Olivia. He returned to the kitchen while she talked to her uncle and finished up with dinner. By the time they sat down together to eat, Kurt was the last thing on his mind.

He hoped it would stay that way.

Blaine didn't even stop once to consider that whether or not Kurt hurt him wasn't something he could decide.

Never before had a promise felt so fragile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love writing Cooper, in every single fic.   
> I hope you liked it.   
> I'll be seeing you again on Saturday!  
> Love,  
> L.-


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday!  
> I can't thank you all enough for your comments and your support for this story. I was so nervous about posting it that first day, and never in a million years would I have imagined it would get this kind of responses. You're all amazing and I appreciate you.  
> Big, big shoutout to Christine, the best beta in the Klaine fandom.  
> Enjoy!

Without Finn constantly around, silence had become Kurt's biggest enemy. He missed his son while he was at school, missed the way he seemed to fill every single second of his day with his questions, his babbling about his favorite shows and toys, his stories about what he had been doing with grandpa. Kurt felt almost sick to his stomach while he was away – his own thoughts weren't very nice company. Most often than not, he found himself thinking back to nightmarish nights, bruises, insults, and all the moments in which he could have walked away but didn't.

The only way to keep those thoughts at bay was to make sure he was as busy as possible.

This was very difficult to accomplish because he was a useless man without a job or a single, miserable thing to do. Sometimes he felt like a robot – as soon as Finn was gone for school, it was like he powered off until he returned. He just sat and looked out the window, waiting for time to pass, without a single purpose.

He hated his life.

To compensate for his uselessness, he decided he would clean the house, and once he started, he couldn't stop. He would spend hours on his knees scrubbing the tiles on the kitchen floor one by one until they were so spotless they could have eaten off them. He vacuumed the rug on the living room and when he still couldn't get all the crumbs off it (he needed to have a talk with his dad about eating his snacks here and not being more mindful of the rug), he tried to picked them up one by one with his fingers.

“Kurt?”

He looked up – he was once again kneeling on the floor, this time in the bathroom upstairs, cleaning the bathtub. The toilet and sink were already shiny, looking brand new. His father was standing at the door, Carole peeking over his shoulder at the bathroom, a hand pressed against her lips as if she was trying to hold back words that were resting right on the tip of her tongue.

“Yes, dad?” He murmured.

“Do you think you can come down to the kitchen for a moment? We'd like to talk to you,” Burt said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Kurt sighed. “Can it wait a minute? I just want to finish here...”

“Kurt,” Carole said, her voice a little sad. “Kurt, your hands.”

He looked at them and blinked in surprise. The skin of his palms was red and cracked, and only then did he notice how much they hurt. They looked raw, and he hadn't even thought about wearing gloves to protect them from the cleaning products.

“Come on, buddy,” Burt insisted. “Let's go down to the kitchen. We just made a fresh pot of coffee.”

Kurt dropped the sponge into the tub and unwillingly followed his parents down the stairs to the kitchen. He sat at the table and slowly rubbed his aching hands as Carole placed a cup of coffee in front of him and Burt slipped into a chair across the table from him. He seemed worried, his clear eyes going straight to Kurt's hands, which made him stop rubbing them, and he simply hid them under the table.

Carole took a seat next to her husband. It made Kurt feel as if they were teaming up against him. “Honey, I want you to know that we're so grateful for everything you've been doing in the past few days to help around the house...” She started, with a quick glance to Burt. “I don't think I've ever seen the house so spotless, really. But don't you think that it's getting a little out of control?”

_You can't do anything right, Kurt._

“I'm sorry,” he replied, as he stared down into his coffee. “I just wanted to help. To do something useful.”

“And you are, Kurt,” Burt reassured him, leaning in a bit so he could caught his son's eye. “But we thought you'd like to do something else to keep busy while you figure out what you want to do.”

Kurt waited, didn't say another word. It was clear his father had something in mind already, so it was just a matter of time before he spit it out. And Kurt would agree, because who was he to reject his father's ideas when he had none of his own?

“Well,” Burt finally said, clearing his throat again, obviously a little uncomfortable by Kurt's lack of response. “It was really great when you came to the garage the other day, Kurt. It was so much help and I'm understaffed...” He paused, as if he thought Kurt would say anything, but when he didn't, he simply continued: “I was wondering if you'd like to come in a few times a week, maybe help with admin stuff, or even do some work on the cars, you know, when it's nothing too complicated...”

“Sure,” Kurt agreed immediately. There was no enthusiasm in his voice, but he didn't think he would have sounded excited even if he had been offered a job at Marc Jacob's. But he owed his father, for welcoming him and his son into his house when he needed it the most. For putting food on the table and keeping Finn safe. It was the least he could do. “I can start tomorrow.”

Burt smiled. “That's great, buddy. Thank you.”

Carole placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, as if to stop him, and looked at Kurt intently. “Is that what you want, Kurt?” She asked carefully. “Would that make things easier for you? Make you happier?”

There it was that word again. He blinked at her for a moment, and considered answering in the same way he answered Finn's questions, but it wouldn't fool her. She would know. She would look right past him.

“Yes, it would make things easier,” he said, and blatantly avoided her last question.

It would keep him busy, at least. And that was all Kurt expect from his life at the moment – to be so busy he didn't have to keep hearing the voices in his head that kept screaming back at him the same words Gabriel had said to him over the years.

His hands ached. “Can I go back upstairs now? I would like to finish cleaning the bathroom before I have to go pick up Finn.”

Carole glanced at Burt quickly, and then back at Kurt. “Actually... there's something else.”

“What is it?” He asked.

She slipped a hand into her pocket and then slid a business card across the table towards him. “You don't have to use this if you don't want to. I just thought it would be useful to have the information in case you needed it.”

Kurt read the card – the name, phone and address of a therapist – and said nothing.

“She specializes in cases like yours – domestic violence and abusive situations,” Carole explained, and now she sounded nervous, like she was scared she'd gone too far. “I know therapy is useless if you're not ready to put in the work, if you're not ready to take that step, but in case you ever feel like you're ready to so, then all you have to do is call her and set up an appointment.”

Kurt ran his thumb over the edge of the card over and over again.

“You deserve to be happy again, Kurt,” Burt said, and his voice broke as he said his son's name. Kurt looked up at him and found so much pain in his eyes, it made him feel guilty. “I can't even begin to imagine how you must feel, so I can't tell you what to do or how to fix it. But maybe talking to someone who understands might be a step in the right direction. You can't keep living like this, buddy. It's not living at all. And there's still so much waiting for you out there, so many good things.”

Kurt knew they were right, part of him knew that they were worried and they wanted the best for him. But it was so hard to accept it, to even think about reliving every single moment of the past ten years in front of a therapist. What if she told him he would never move on? What if he was just too scarred? What if therapy did nothing but tear open every single wound again until he was left gaping and bleeding and looking at a life that wasn't worth living?

No. It would always be worth living, even if so much of it had felt like hell. Because Finn needed him. Because his son was worth it. And because at some point, when he was able to push through the fog of the bad memories, he could remember happier times, even if right now they felt like they had happened to someone else.

“Okay,” he said at last, and closed his hand around the card, the edges digging into his already bruised palm. “I... I think I need some time, but I'll call her. I promise.”

Carole smiled softly at him, looking relieved. “Take all the time you need, honey. We're here for whatever you need, okay?”

“Every step of the way,” Burt added and, for a second, as he looked at them, Kurt felt that, with them in his corner, maybe he could defeat every single demon that had invaded and taken over his life.

And while he worked on becoming brave enough to take this next step, at least he would be busy at the garage, doing his best to prove he was still useful.

Kurt Hummel had been brave once. He had walked down his high school hallway while people glared at him, pushed him into lockers, told him he was wrong for being who he was. And along the way, when he had believed he would be safe and free, that bravery had been beaten out of him.

But maybe it wasn't late to get it back.

* * *

By Friday, Kurt had been careful enough while dropping off and picking up Finn at school that he hadn't run into Blaine again. Maybe it had all been a coincidence and Blaine was never in this part of town, but Kurt didn't want to risk it.

But his luck always ran out.

“Daddy, help me with my shoe?” Finn asked as they arrived at school, and Kurt noticed his son's shoelaces were undone. He kneeled on the sidewalk and tied them in a tight knot to make sure they would hold up for the rest of the day. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, sweetie,” Kurt replied with a little smile. He kissed his forehead and handed him his lunchbox. “Have a good day. I'll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Finn smiled back at him, adorable as ever, and then turned around and walked into the school, Miss Mayra greeting him at the entrance and waving at Kurt as she spotted him outside.

Kurt waved back and turned to leave, almost bumping into Blaine Anderson for the second time that week.

“Oh, Kurt, hi,” Blaine said awkwardly. “How are you?”

“Good, thanks,” Kurt said automatically. Blaine looked good – his curls styled into a softer hairdo, no longer trapped in a gel helmet, but he still looked like he had stepped out of an old Hollywood movie, with his bowtie and burgundy blazer.

But if there was something more shocking than Blaine's looks was the little girl holding his hand and peeking curiously at Kurt. She had wavy dark hair and big brown eyes, her little lips pursed in consideration.

This had to be Blaine's daughter. Blaine had a daughter.

“Ah yes,” Blaine said, following his eyes down to the little girl. “This is my daughter, Olivia. Ollie, this is Kurt, he's... uhm, he's an old friend of daddy's, from school.”

It was an oversimplification and they were both very aware of that, but there was no point in sharing their long and sometimes painful history with her.

“Nice to meet you,” Olivia said politely, and she was Blaine's daughter, alright. She extended her hand to him, and Kurt shook it, a little amused.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he echoed with a smile.

“Does your face hurt?” She asked then, politeness vanishing quite abruptly. “It looks like that time I fell from the swings when I was with my other daddy and landed on my face.”

Kurt startled at her bluntness and filed away the mention of her other daddy for another time. It wasn't something that he was supposed to be worried about, especially not while she watched him, clearly expecting an answer to her question.

“Olivia!” Blaine chastised her. “Don't be rude.”

“I'm not being rude, daddy. It looks like it hurts. Maybe we can give him some of that cream you put on my face? It made me feel better,” she insisted, tugging on Blaine's hand as if he was being very dense.

Kurt cleared his throat, recovered from the shock, and did his best to smile at her. “I'm fine, I promise. I'm just... very clumsy sometimes.”

How many times had he used that excuse? But it had never hurt to use it as much as it did then. He was done excusing Gabriel for his behavior.

“Ah, well, I am, too, sometimes,” Olivia said, nodding knowingly. “Daddy says...”

“Ollie, why don't you go inside?” Blaine interrupted softly. “You don't want to be late.”

Olivia frowned up at her father, not pleased at being interrupted, but nodded when he gave her a rather pointed look. “Okay.”

Blaine kissed the top of her head and gave her a playful little push. “Come on, get out of here. Have fun, okay? Love you.”

“I love you too, daddy! Bye, Kurt!” She exclaimed and hopped all the way into the school.

Kurt and Blaine watched her go in awkward silence. Kurt wanted to escape as soon as possible, but when he finally looked away from the building, once Olivia had disappeared inside, he found Blaine staring at him.

Kurt glanced away immediately, but said: “She's adorable, and so smart.”

“Too much for my own good, sometimes,” Blaine said with a little chuckle, and ran a hand down the back of his neck, as he often did when he was flustered or nervous. Or maybe it was for an entirely different reason that Kurt didn't know about – a decade could really change a person, after all. It had certainly changed him.

The silence extended between them again, heavy, suffocating.

“Well, I should...” Kurt said and pointed aimlessly over his shoulder, as if to indicate he had somewhere to be.

But Blaine snapped his eyes towards his, that same intense hazel Kurt had loved looking into when he was still a hopeful kid, a romantic, a believer. His voice was serious, if a little hesitant, when he asked: “Kurt, are you sure you're okay?”

Kurt's breath hitched in his throat. Part of him was sure that even without the physical evidence, Blaine would have seen right through him, would have been able to call him out on every excuse, every lie, every wall he put up around him. He had been the person to know him the most.

He opened his mouth, ready to lie anyway, but he couldn't find the words. He let out a defeated little sigh and said, instead: “It's a really long story. But everything will be okay soon.”

It seemed Blaine wanted to know more, but he bit his lip and shook his head minutely. Other people wouldn't have noticed it, but Kurt wasn't other people, and even after all these years, he seemed to still be so in tune with Blaine's mannerisms.

“So what are you doing back in Lima?” He said at last, and by the tone of his voice, he believed that was a lighter, easier question.

He had no idea exactly how loaded and difficult to answer it was, but Kurt decided to reply in the simplest way possible, making sure to keep his face as neutral as possible. “I'm back to live with my parents for a while, and my son just started kindergarten here, so...”

“You have a son?” Blaine said, looking as astonished with the information as Kurt had felt when he had seen Olivia. Kurt only nodded, not sure what else to say and not wanting to invite even more questions. “That's great. I know how much you've always wanted to be a dad. And Burt must be over the moon. I hope he and Carole are doing alright?”

“Yeah, they are both okay. Thanks,” Kurt said. He looked away – it was so hard to look straight into Blaine's face. He kept seeing in him the reflection of the boy he had loved and hurt, but he had changed, had grown in their time apart, and there was nothing left of that boyish charm. Blaine was a man now, a father and probably also a husband. And every role, like every single one Kurt had seen him play in the time he had known him, fitted him like a glove, effortlessly.

Blaine glanced at his cellphone. “Shoot, I have to run or I'll be late for work. It was nice to see you again, Kurt. Maybe we could get that coffee one day?” He didn't wait for Kurt to reply to this, and by the tone of his voice and the look on Kurt's face, it was obvious the offer was a mere formality. Neither intended to spend more time with the other than they needed to. “And give my love to your parents, okay?”

“I will,” Kurt murmured, as he watched him walk away, almost jogging towards his car, stopping only to wave at one of the parents who was approaching the school with a boy and a girl in each hand.

Effortlessly, yeah. And meanwhile Kurt stood frozen, willing his heart to go back to a normal speed, and trying to remember exactly where he was supposed to be and why.

He slowly turned away and headed towards the garage, where his father was waiting for him. And as he walked, he realized that there would be no avoiding Blaine Anderson, as much as he tried. It looked like their paths were going to keep crossing, and Kurt would have to learn to deal with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Blaine. You're always so nice. I love you so much.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
> I will see you again on Wednesday!   
> Love,  
> L.-


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday!  
> Thank you, as usual, for your wonderful comments. This chapter was one of my favorite ones to write, so I can't wait to see what you think.  
> Eternal love for Christine, the best beta and friend ever.  
> Enjoy!

There were a lot of things that Finn Hummel liked – chocolate chip pancakes, grandma Carole's warm hugs, the voices grandpa Burt did when he read him a story, the way his dad smiled at him, how he could feel the wind on his face when he ran very, very fast, and dogs (someday, hopefully, his dad would let him have one, or twenty) – but since he had started school, he had discovered a whole lot of new things to like.

One of them was what Miss Mayra called Craft Time. She allowed them to do whatever they preferred, from cards and collages to paintings and little clay sculptures. Today, Finn had chosen finger painting and he loved how sticky and colorful his hands were, splashes of blue, red and green all over his fingers and even up his wrist. He stuck his little pink tongue between his teeth in concentration and used a pretty pink to draw a curved line that he hoped looked like a smile. He was working very hard on this picture of his daddy and he couldn't wait to give it to him. It was the best one he had ever done, and he was sure this would do the trick. This would finally make his daddy happy.

Things had been so much better since they had moved in with his grandparents, but Finn could tell it wasn't perfect, not yet. Sometimes he found his dad sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the wall, and he looked so sad that it made him want to cry. But daddy never cried, he always smiled as soon as he saw Finn standing there watching him, and he would open his arms and hug him so tight Finn could barely breathe, but he didn't care.

It had never been perfect, not really. Or at least, Finn didn't remember. Maybe his dad's life had been happier when he was a baby. He remembered playing with him and laughing, and seeing him smile so bright it looked like his face would crack, but it never lasted long. It usually all went away as soon as the front door opened and his other dad came home. Was he his dad, still? Finn wasn't sure how things worked, but he didn't like the idea of having to call him dad. He preferred to have one dad, to be honest. He had never liked how Gabriel had treated his daddy, how he had made him look scared, how he always hurt him. Finn knew. He always knew, even when they thought he wasn't watching. Sometimes he would hide behind the couch and spy into the kitchen and watch Gabriel push his daddy around. At first, he had thought it was some kind of game, but then he understood. No game should be as painful and rough as that. Games should be fun, should make you laugh. And his daddy never laughed.

Finn wiped his hand and admired his work. Yes, this was his best painting yet. His daddy would love it, and it would probably fix everything. Maybe he would put it up in the fridge and they would look at it every morning and remember how to be happy.

He put it away to let it dry and went to wash his hands as Miss Mayra instructed them, reminding them that they would go out to recess in five minutes. He tidied up his things and waited patiently, watching the other kids as he did. He still didn't have any friends, wasn't quite sure how to make one. Sometimes a few of them would sit with him during lunch and they would exchange cookies and carrot sticks, but he couldn't help but be a little shy around them. Most of them knew each other already, and Finn didn't like being the new kid. He had never been to school before, had only ever played with his daddy. It was intimidating to be surrounded by so many new kids at once.

Miss Mayra made them form a line before leading them down the hallway and outside to the playground. Finn liked it outside – there were swings and slides, and pretty trees. He would usually race towards the swings to grab one before they were all taken, but he wasn't fast enough today, so he simply shrugged and sat down under one of the trees with his juice box. His daddy always packed him extra so he wouldn't be thirsty.

He was still thinking about the nice picture he had painted and how happy it would make his dad, too distracted to notice what was going on around him, when two of the bigger boys from a different class started pushing each other right in front of him. Finn's eyes widened as he looked at them, and they only seemed to get angrier with each shove, until the tallest one finally landed a very heavy punch on the other boy's face and threw him to the floor.

They kept fighting and fighting, and some of the other kids were noticing now and seemed either upset or entertained by it, but Finn felt himself freeze. He didn't like the sound fists made when they collided against skin and bone. He didn't like the gasps of pain or the grunts coming out between the tallest boy's lips as he kept hitting the other boy. His nose was bloody now, and one of the teachers was racing towards them to stop them, but Finn felt as if he had been transported back to that small apartment in the city, in which he had to hear the screams and the punches almost every night, when his dad would tell him to lock the door of his room and cover his ears, when he would eventually open the door and find his dad covering his bruises and trying to smile for him...

He began to shake. He didn't want to be here anymore.

Crawling slowly, as to not get anyone's attention, he slipped under some bushes, where no one would be able to find him. He covered his ears and closed his eyes tightly and tried to breathe. His daddy was fine. These two boys were silly and they had nothing to do with what had happened to his little family.

But with his eyes closed, he could still see the bruises on his dad's face, so dark against his pale skin.

A soft, little hand touched his cheek and Finn's eyes snapped open in fear, only to find a girl had slipped under the bushes next to him. She retracted her hand slightly, but then touched his cheek again, wiping his tears away. She was holding his juice box in the other hand, and he hadn't even noticed he had dropped it.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her big brown eyes fixed on him.

Finn's bottom lip quivered slightly, but he nodded.

“My name's Olivia,” she said quietly. “What's your name?”

Finn used his sleeve to clean his nose. “I'm Finn.”

“That's a pretty name,” she said with a little smile. “Do you want to come out of here? I can help you crawl out.”

Finn shook his head. “No, I don't want to go out there. It's loud and those boys are fighting.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I know. They're so immature. My daddy says violence is an ugly thing and it fixes nothing.” She watched him in silence for a few seconds. “You're in my class, aren't you? I saw you but we never talked.”

“I think so, yeah,” he shrugged, because it was hard remembering everyone, still.

She kept watching him and it should have made him uncomfortable, but it didn't. Eventually she dragged herself a little closer and wrapped her little arm around him. It wasn't easy, because the space under the bush was small, but she managed. “We can stay here as long as you need to.”

“Okay,” Finn said, and dropped his head on her shoulder.

She hummed a sweet, unknown melody and Finn closed his eyes, relieved not to be alone.

* * *

Helping at the garage for the past few days had been a great improvement for Kurt. It kept him busy and feeling useful, and between that and taking care of Finn the rest of the day, when he got into bed at night he was so tired, he fell asleep right away. After the first two days working there, he finally managed to sleep through the night without being woken up by nightmares. So yes, it was definitely an improvement, and Kurt was glad his father had suggested it.

He wiped his hands on a rag and closed the hood of the car. Today he was helping out with a few minor repairs since there was too much work and not enough staff available to get it all done in time. It was weird to be wearing his Hummel Tires and Lube overall, and even weirder that it still fit him after all these years, but it was, like everything else in his life for the past couple of weeks, a welcomed change.

Kurt moved towards the driver's side and got into the car to turn the engine on and check if the little squeaky noise the customer had heard was still there or not. He listened carefully for a few seconds – nothing but the gentle purr of the engine. He smiled a little. It felt good to accomplish something.

His reflection caught his eye on the rearview mirror. Most of the bruises were gone now, and the ones that remained had turned an ugly shade of yellow, but they were at least easier to conceal with some make up if he felt like it. His body was leaving behind the traces of what had happened to him. Maybe his mind would follow soon.

As he exited the car, he vaguely heard the phone ringing, but saw his father was already heading towards it, so instead he moved to the next car that needed his attention. However, he had barely started reading the form with the information on it when his father jogged across the garage to where he was, the wireless phone extended towards him.

“Kurt, it's from Finn's school,” he said, worry plain on his features.

Kurt dropped the clipboard and grabbed the phone immediately. “Hello? This is Finn's father.”

He listened as the secretary explained, the blood in his veins turning into ice with every word – Finn had disappeared. He had gone out to recess and when they returned to the classroom, he was nowhere to be seen. They had already checked the school grounds and couldn't find him.

“I'm on my way,” he said sharply. He turned to his dad, who was looking at him expectantly. “They can't find Finn. They don't know where he is.”

“How can they not know?” Burt asked, anger slipping into his voice.

“I have to go,” Kurt said, already heading towards the exit.

“Kurt, wait!” Burt exclaimed, and when Kurt turned to look at him, he tossed him a set of keys. “Take my truck. Let me know as soon as you know anything.”

As Kurt drove to the school, probably breaking a few traffic laws on the way, he didn't allow himself to think about what would happen if Finn wasn't alright.

He needed to be alright.

* * *

Blaine's phone started buzzing insistently in his pocket. The Warblers were in the middle of a very heated argument in which they were trying to determine whether it was a good idea to change the blazers for a new costume for sectionals, and Blaine was having a very dense sense of dejavú. But he let them go at it – it was nice how much they cared, how passionate they were about even the tiniest details.

He subtly took a look at his phone, and frowned when he saw it was Olivia's school calling. He excused himself and stepped out of the rehearsal room and into the large, empty hallways. Even his quiet steps echoed in this vast space. He took the call.

Blaine reminded himself to breathe in through his nose and slowly exhale through his lips as he listened to what the secretary was saying. As soon as he understood what she meant, he began to walk towards the dean's office. He assured her he would be there soon and hung up the call as he knocked on the heavy, polished door.

He quickly explained that there was an issue at Olivia's school and he had to leave immediately. The dean was very understanding and immediately sent someone to take over the Warblers' meeting as Blaine jogged down the hall and out of the school, towards the parking lot. He cursed. For once, he hated how big Dalton was.

His heart was pounding so loudly he could barely think. All he knew was that they couldn't find his daughter and every awful possibility was trying to rush through his head at the same time. What if she was hurt? What if she had somehow left the school premises and was now lost? What if she got into an accident? What if someone had gone into the school and taken her? It was a dangerous world out there, and horrible things could happen to little girls.

Blaine swallowed the nausea as best as he could – he didn't have time to stop to vomit on the side of the road.

He broke the speed limit and made it to the school on record time. He parked the car quickly and exited it, running towards the main gate. He was immediately taken to the principal's office, and he burst through the doors like a caged animal.

“Mr. Anderson, thank you for coming...” Mrs. Heller said, standing up from her desk with a grave expression on her face and extending her hand to him.

“Where the hell is my daughter?” He asked as way of greeting. His parents would shake their heads in disapproval at his lack of manners. He didn't care. “How can you lose a kid?”

“I'm very sorry for this situation. This has never happened before, and trust me that we're doing everything we can to find them,” she said.

Blaine blinked at him. “Them? How many children are missing?”

“Well, two,” she replied rather reluctantly. “We're waiting for the other boy's parent to arrive...”

Blaine let out a deep breath, telling himself he needed to calm down or he wouldn't be able to be useful. He needed to stay calm and really think. He planted the palms of his hands on the surface of her desk and leaned in a bit. “Tell me what happened.”

But before she could even part her lips to begin the explanation, the door to her office was pushed open again. Blaine glanced over his shoulder and was shocked to see Kurt rushing into the office, looking pale and worried.

“Kurt?” Blaine muttered, and Kurt's blue eyes snapped to him in confusion.

“What's going on?” He asked breathlessly, as if he had run all the way there.

“Mr. Hummel, thank you for joining us. Please, both of you, take a seat...” Mrs. Heller said politely.

“Where is my son?” Kurt asked instead, not paying attention to her.

“Your son is missing, too?” Blaine asked him, and Kurt nodded shakily.

“Olivia...?” Kurt murmured, and Blaine also nodded, before turning back to the principal.

“Okay, you better start explaining what the hell is going on here,” he said fiercely.

Mrs. Heller took a deep breath. She was obviously under a lot of pressure, and as a fellow educator, Blaine would have been sympathetic, if it wasn't for the fact he was so worried he thought he was going to crumble into pieces.

“Both of your children went out to recess with the rest of their class. Miss Mayra saw them both right before the incident. Unfortunately, there was a bit of a commotion in the playground when two boys got into a fight. The teachers separated them and got their respective groups back into their classrooms. It was then that Miss Mayra noticed they were not there.”

Blaine opened his mouth to ask a question, but Kurt beat him to it. He sounded even more breathless than when he had stepped into the office.

“There was a fight?”

Blaine blinked at him in confusion for a moment, before turning to Mrs. Heller, who was already nodding and replying to him.

“I'm afraid so. Two boys had a confrontation about a toy, apparently, and the situation escalated quickly. One of the boys hit the other pretty hard and had him pinned to the ground before anyone could even realize what was happening...” Mrs. Heller paused. “Mr. Hummel, are you alright?”

Kurt had dropped down into a chair heavily and was rubbing a hand down his face. Blaine frowned and took an instinctive step towards him before he even knew what he was doing.

“My son, he... he doesn't respond well to violent situations,” Kurt managed to say, avoiding everyone's eyes. “He probably hid somewhere if he saw what was happening.”

Blaine filed away all the questions rising in his head and turned back to Mrs. Heller. “Have you checked everything? Every nook and cranny?”

“We have, yes. We covered the entire school grounds,” she explained, wringing her hands together nervously.

“Are there security cameras in the playground? Maybe we can check the footage?” Blaine suggested, desperate for something to do. “Or maybe we can check if anyone slipped into the school unnoticed?”

Kurt finally looked up at him, his blue eyes wide and scared. “You think maybe someone took them?”

“I hope not, but we need to check every possibility,” Blaine replied, and his fingers twitched, as if ready to reach out for Kurt and give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Maybe we should call the police,” Kurt said. “And we both should go out there and see if we can find them. If there was a fight, maybe my son got too scared, and he won't come out of hiding unless he hears my voice...”

“I think that's a good idea,” Blaine said, and Kurt stood up. “Let's go to the playground and...”

The door opened once again and now Miss Mayra stepped into the office, followed by two small figures hurdled together, holding hands.

“Hi daddy,” Olivia said.

Blaine felt as if his heart had dropped all the way down to his feet. “Ollie, thank god...”

“ _Finn_ ,” Kurt whispered, as if that one word took every strength he had left, and dropped to his knees to bring the little boy into his arms.

Blaine, who had just pulled his daughter into his own arms, so relieved he could barely breathe, stopped at the name that had left Kurt's lips, and a decade-old ache sent a pang through his chest. Of course. Of course Kurt would call his son that.

God, those had been simpler days, together in the choir room or in the Hummel-Hudson living room after Friday night dinner, playing videogames with Finn while Kurt leaned against his side, reading a magazine and pretending he didn't care about such boyish, childish things.

“I'm sorry, daddy,” Finn was saying against his father's shoulder.

“You _scared_ me,” Kurt murmured, and Blaine knew Kurt well enough to recognize the sound of his voice when he was fighting hard not to cry. “Don't ever do that again.”

“It wasn't Finn's fault, daddy,” Olivia intervened, as she threw her little arms around Blaine's neck. “He was upset and he hid under a bush so I slipped under it with him, and we waited for things to quiet down, but we fell asleep.”

“They just walked into the classroom two minutes ago,” Miss Mayra explained. “They didn't hear us when we were calling for them.”

Kurt was still on the floor, holding onto his son so tightly it was a miracle they didn't fuse into each other. Mrs. Heller watched them, as did Miss Mayra, and it was obvious they both communicated without words, because Miss Mayra nodded and left the office, as Mrs. Heller walked around her desk to approach them.

“I think it's been an emotional day for everyone, and both Finn and Olivia should call it a day a little early today,” she said in a calming voice.

Blaine nodded, his lips pressed to his daughter's soft hair. “I think that's a good idea. Let's go home, okay, honey?”

Miss Mayra slipped back into the office just as Kurt was finally peeling himself off Finn, bringing the kids' backpacks and lunch boxes. She kissed Finn's and Olivia's foreheads and promised to see them the next day.

Finn and Kurt were very quiet as they all walked down the hallway and out of the school. Kurt looked ready to collapse, as if he had used all his energy to get to this point, and now that his son was safe and sound, he was slowly deflating like an old balloon. His son was nested in his arms, and as Blaine walked just a step or two behind them, he was struck by how much Finn looked like his dad – the same pale skin, the same blue eyes, the same tiny freckles on his nose, the ones Kurt would get when he sat in the sun for too long during the summer.

For many years, when he was still so young and hopeful about where his life would go, Blaine had imagined what it would be like to build his family with Kurt, had imagined a million different kids that combined Kurt's features and his. He had dreamed of little girls with dark curls and blue eyes, and little boys with hazel eyes and Kurt's pale complexion. And Finn... Finn looked like he had walked right out of one of Blaine's dreams, the ones that for a very long time he had held dearest to his heart, and the ones he had mourned the most when Kurt had broken off the engagement.

Blaine's heart suddenly ached, and he tightened his grip on his daughter's hand.

As they reached the sidewalk and Finn began to softly kick his legs to let his father know he wanted to be lowered to the ground, Blaine noticed for the first time that Kurt was wearing his old Hummel Tires and Lube overall. He was hit with so many memories all of a sudden, of sitting behind the counter at the garage and watching Kurt work, mesmerized by his boyfriend's versatility – he could go from fashionable diva to oil-stained mechanic in the blink of an eye, and it had been only one of the many reasons why Blaine loved him so much.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Olivia dropped his hand to wrap her arms around Finn tightly.

“Thank you for helping me today,” Finn was saying quietly.

“You're welcome. You're my bestest friend now, okay?” Olivia said with a bright smile that Finn returned instantly as they pulled away. She then turned to her dad and gave him her best puppy dog eyes – which she had learned from him, so Blaine had brought this on himself, really. “Daddy, can Finn come over for a play date now?”

“Oh, I...” Blaine glanced from his daughter and up to Kurt hesitantly. “I don't know, honey.”

Finn was tugging on Kurt's hand to get his attention now. “Please, daddy?” He lowered his voice until he was whispering, but it was still loud enough for Blaine to hear him: “I've never had a bestest friend before, daddy.”

Blaine could see the exact moment in which Kurt's heart melted. His own melted a little bit, as well.

“I don't know, Finn,” Kurt said, and looked up at Blaine fleetingly. “Grandpa Burt was really worried. We should go to the garage and let him know you're okay.” He seemed incredibly uncomfortable as he added: “And we don't want to impose on Olivia and her dad...”

“But we want you to come! Both of you!” Olivia exclaimed before Blaine could give Kurt an out by offering to schedule something at a later date. “Right, daddy?”

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other in awkward silence for a few seconds that could have stretched on forever. Blaine knew those eyes very well, but he couldn't read them as efficiently as he once had. There were so many things that Kurt kept hidden now. He had become a mystery.

And Blaine would be a liar if he said he didn't want to unravel him.

Cooper would punch him in the face if he could hear his thoughts.

“We would love to have you,” he finally said, and he wasn't sure if Kurt looked more uncomfortable by his response, but he certainly seemed to tense for a moment.

Kurt glanced down at Finn, who was gazing up at his father with the most adorably expectant look on his face. Biting his lip, Kurt finally sighed. “Okay, fine.”

“Thank you, Kurt!” Olivia said, clapping her hands in excitement.

Finn turned to her, confused. “How do you know my daddy?”

“I met him the other day! Our daddies were bestest friends, too, when they were in school!” Olivia explained, clearly proud to be able to share this knowledge with her new friend.

Finn tugged on his dad's sleeve, eyes wide. “Is that true?”

Kurt's eyes flew to Blaine and away quickly, and now he did look uncomfortable. “Well...”

Blaine decided to step in. “Yes, it's true. We were best friends.”

It wasn't a lie, even if it was the understatement of the century.

Kurt didn't seem particularly grateful for his intervention. Blaine smiled at him a bit, but there was no denying that this was bound to be a very, very strange afternoon.

* * *

Turning the engine off, Blaine's eyes snapped to his rearview mirror and he watched as Kurt parked his truck on the driveway behind him. He allowed himself a few seconds sitting there behind the wheel, trying to make sense of what was happening. Kurt Hummel was in his house.

Or he would be, soon, if Blaine managed to get out of his car and open the front door. But just a couple of weeks ago, he had thought he would never see Kurt again, hadn't even thought about him that much, really, after being the only thing he had thought about for a very, very long time, as he tried to heal.

And now he was here, but he wasn't the man Blaine had loved and known so, so well.

“Daddy!” Olivia exclaimed, yanking him back to the present and out of his own head. “Help me with my seatbelt?”

“Of course, honey. Just a second,” he said and took a deep breath, before he finally stepped out of the car and went around it to open the backseat door to get his daughter out.

He saw Kurt mimic him, going to the backseat and helping Finn out, and as soon as both children were free, they began to chase each other around the garden, giggly and happy. Blaine looked at them for a moment, a little smile slipping onto his lips, before waving at Kurt to follow him, fishing his keys out of his bag.

The kids almost crashed against them in their haste to get inside as soon as Blaine got the door opened. Olivia paused to drop her backpack and lunchbox in the hallway, a habit Blaine still needed to break her from, and stared up at her dad with her big doe eyes.

“Daddy, can I please show Finn my room?” She asked.

Blaine remembered the fear that had coursed through him earlier that day, as he raced from Dalton to her school to find out what had happened to his daughter. How could he deny her anything right now? “Sure, baby. Go play and I'll bring you a snack in a bit, okay?”

“Thanks, daddy, you're the best!” She yelled over her shoulder, already having grabbed Finn's hand to drag him further into the house and towards her room.

And then it was just Kurt and Blaine, standing awkwardly in the entry way.

“Well, come on in, make yourself at home,” he told Kurt, trying to sound casual and normal, when in reality he was trying to remember how to function like a normal human being. He picked up Olivia's things and put them in the closet, along with his own bag and jacket.

Kurt was wringing his hands together as he glanced around. “You have a lovely house.”

“Thanks! My sister-in-law helped us find it. We love it here,” he said, as he stepped into the living room, grateful that it didn't look like a mess and there weren't any forgotten cups of coffee or dirty clothes anywhere.

“You did a great job with the decorating. I love the colors,” Kurt commented, and Blaine recognized his words for what they were – a way to fill a very uncomfortable silence. He appreciated the sentiment anyway. “Uh, do you think I can borrow your phone? I need to call my dad and let him know Finn is alright.”

Blaine was grateful for the chance to escape for a moment to collect his thoughts. He pointed at the side table next to the couch. “Of course. You can use the landline. I'll be in the kitchen making coffee, just join me whenever you're ready.”

The question here was, if Blaine would ever be ready himself.

This was a strange, strange day.

Blaine walked into the kitchen and stood at the counter, his palms pressed against the cold granite, and took two deep breaths. He could hear Kurt's voice vaguely from the living room, but paid no attention to him, busying himself making coffee and grabbing two mugs from the cupboard as he waited. He got the coffee creamer and was just finishing pouring the coffee into the cups when Kurt entered the kitchen hesitantly.

“Thanks for letting me borrow your phone,” he said, probably at a lack of something better to say.

“No problem. How's your dad?” Blaine asked, as he gestured at the table in silent invitation.

Kurt took a seat, his back to the window, matching the sky blue pattern like the kitchen had been designed to welcome him in. “Much better now that he knows Finn's okay. He scared us.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It's a miracle I didn't get arrested or into a car crash on my way to the school.” Blaine placed the mugs on the table and let his eyes wander to Kurt's outfit. “So, are you working at the tire shop?”

Kurt blinked in confusion for a moment, before he followed Blaine's line of sight. “Oh, yeah. I am. We're short on staff at the moment, so my dad asked me to help.”

Blaine thought about all the things Kurt wasn't saying, the blanks he left unfilled. It wasn't probable that he was back in the garage because he wanted to be, or for the same old reason he used to work there, which was to be able to afford his love for designer brands. Come to think of it, the last few times Blaine had run into him, Kurt hadn't been wearing anything near as fancy as he used to.

It seemed like everything had changed.

Kurt sipped his coffee, and his eyebrows shot up in evident surprise. He looked up at Blaine. “You know how I like my coffee?”

Blaine nearly scoffed. “Of course I do,” he said. It hadn't occurred to him that coffee preferences could have been just one more thing that changed. It was nice to know some things were permanent.

As the silence settled between them again, Blaine focused on drinking his own coffee, leaning against the kitchen counter, doing his best not to stare at Kurt as if he could read all the answers to the questions buzzing in his head right on his face.

Part of him wanted to flash back to the last time he had seen Kurt, a decade ago, sitting across a very different table on a rainy night, breaking his heart with every word that left his mouth. But he had dealt with that pain, healed, stopped it from poisoning him, moved on. 

The question here was, though, had he forgiven Kurt?

Kurt carefully put the cup of coffee back on the table and looked around, taking in the decor, the appliances, every detail. His eyes didn't even go near Blaine once. He seemed skittish and scared in a way Blaine had never seen him before.

He was also so, so very skinny in that coverall.

Blaine cleared his throat, which he then regretted because it sounded sharp in the otherwise quiet kitchen, and Kurt visibly startled. “So I've read online that Rachel's starting a new show soon," he said, needing to break the ice and choosing a topic he guessed was safe. "She must be really excited, huh?"

“I wouldn't know,” Kurt muttered softly.

“What? Why not?” Blaine asked in confusion.

“I haven't seen her or talked to her in... I'm not quite sure. Maybe seven, eight years,” Kurt said, and Blaine could see the way his hands tightened around his mug, could recognize Kurt's need to hold onto something.

“Wow, that's a long time. What happened?” Despite Rachel's difficult personality, he had never imagined they wouldn't be in each other's lives. Kurt had loved her fiercely.

But he had also loved Blaine fiercely, and then he had broken him into a million pieces.

“It's a long story,” Kurt replied in a tone of voice that suggested he wouldn't be getting into it. “Sometimes... well, sometimes life goes in a direction you never really expected.” He said that as he glanced around the kitchen again, and Blaine couldn't help but wonder if Kurt was thinking about all the plans they had made together and how everything had derailed so horribly.

Blaine nodded, eyes going down to stare at his coffee, the dark liquid swirling slowly. “Yeah, I know a thing or two about that.”

He thought he saw Kurt flinch.

“What you said in the principal's office...” He began to say before he could stop himself, “about Finn having issues dealing with violence...”

“It's a long story,” Kurt repeated, sounding a little choked.

“Just tell me one thing,” Blaine insisted, making sure to keep his voice down so the kids wouldn't be able to hear them from Olivia's room. “Is that why you're back in Lima? Is that why you had bruises on your face?”

Kurt's chest rose and fell heavily as he struggled to breathe and Blaine almost regretted asking him that, but he needed to understand. He waited and watched, as Kurt breathed, as he closed his eyes tightly, as his knuckles went white around his mug.

Finally, when Blaine thought he would just ignore the question, Kurt opened his eyes, deep blue and jaded, and settled them on Blaine's. “Yes,” he whispered, and it was as if that one little syllable took everything from him.

“Okay,” Blaine said instantly. He didn't want to force Kurt to say more if he couldn't. “Thanks for telling me. You don't have to tell me about it, I just wanted to make sure I don't say or do the wrong thing. I hope things are better now?”

Kurt briefly glanced down at his hands, and then back up at Blaine. “They will be.”

Blaine nodded, and the silence returned, only to be filled with images Blaine didn't want to have inside his head. His imagination provided the information to fill in those blanks Kurt had presented to him, and he didn't like it one bit.

It seemed Kurt knew exactly what he was thinking, because he made the effort to start a new conversation. “Is Olivia's other dad joining us soon? He must have been worried, too.”

_If only._

“No, he didn't even hear about it. The school has me down as her emergency contact,” Blaine explained, and at Kurt's inquisitive look, he raised his hand and showed his lack of ring, and his finger, that still had the tan line for where it had once sat, like a ghost reminder that Blaine couldn't get rid off, no matter how much he tried. “Patrick and I are divorced. I'm lucky if I can get him to come pick her up for a weekend, he would never even make it in time for a school emergency.”

“That's terrible,” Kurt said, with a sad little smile. “Can't imagine why he wouldn't make the effort to spend more time with her. She's amazing.”

“She really is,” Blaine replied, as a genuine smile appeared on his lips. Even though things had gone downhill between him and Patrick after adopting Olivia, he didn't regret a single thing. She was his whole life, and he loved her more than he ever thought he could ever love anyone.

“Is she biologically yours?” Kurt asked then. “Her eyes are so similar to yours.”

Blaine grinned and finally moved towards the table, taking a seat across from Kurt. “No, we adopted her when she was two years old. That's just a coincidence, I guess, and a lucky one. Can you imagine if she had to deal with my hair? I can't subject a poor child to that.”

He had expected to make Kurt laugh with that comment, and he almost succeeded, since Kurt released a short, huffed out little noise. It was nowhere near Kurt's old hearty laugh, the one that made him scrunch up his nose adorably.

“I've always liked your curls,” he said, making Blaine pause. “I never understood why you hated them so much.”

Such a simple comment, suddenly made Blaine want to stand up and go to the other end of the kitchen, step away as far as possible from Kurt, put some distance between them. Only now, with a silly conversation about his hair, did Blaine realize just how dangerous it was to be with Kurt like this.

Oh, Cooper was definitely going to punch him in the face when he found out.

“Finn's your splitting image,” he said, trying to get the conversation back to a safe place. “So I don't think I need to ask you if he's yours.”

“Yeah, he's mine,” Kurt said, and there was a note of pleasure, of pride, of incredulous wonder in his voice. “We had a surrogate and... well, Gabriel... that was my partner...” he paused, and his face was crossed by a sudden shadow as he said that name, “he insisted. He wanted the baby to be mine.”

“I love the name, too,” Blaine said softly, and Kurt's eyes were on his again, and he couldn't believe how it still affected him, when Kurt looked at him. It made him feel like he was eighteen years old again, breathless and shaky.

“Thank you,” Kurt murmured. “When my son was about to be born, for some reason I kept thinking of Finn. He would've been such a great uncle, with how playful and goofy he was. And I realized there was no other name for my boy.”

“That's really sweet, Kurt,” Blaine said, and his hand inched forward on the table, but he stopped himself before Kurt realized. Reaching for him, touching him? It wasn't only a bad idea. It was not allowed. Not anymore.

It hadn't been allowed for a decade now.

That thought seemed to sober him, and he cleared his throat and decided to move the conversation in a different direction, one that wouldn't have them reminiscing about good or bad times. It was safer to stay in the present, he guessed.

“Do you think the kids are ready for a snack? I could make them something,” he said, and found it was the perfect excuse to stand up and walk away from the table, putting some distance between them.

If Kurt noticed the abrupt change, he didn't mention it. If anything, he seemed a bit relieved. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Do you need any help?”

“No, no, I'm fine. Just stay there and finish your coffee,” Blaine insisted, smiling in a way that he hoped was friendly and not slightly awkward as he suddenly felt. “Any dietary restrictions for Finn that I should know about?”

“Oh, no, no allergies or anything of the sort,” Kurt replied.

“That's good. Ollie doesn't have any allergies either, but she's going through a bit of a picky phase,” Blaine said as he pulled the fridge open. “It's been a bit of a challenge to get her to eat all her veggies.”

“Oh, he went through that phase, too. But he's more open to other options now, so I'm glad we don't have that problem anymore. I guess I'm being rewarded after having to deal with my dad back in high school. He was more difficult than any child I've ever met,” Kurt commented, as he brought his now empty mug to the sink.

Blaine chuckled as he pulled a few things from the fridge. “God, I remember that. Like that time we got to your house earlier than expected and we found him having a large bucket of fried chicken by himself? I thought you were going to murder him.”

Kurt leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn't need to. He was doing a perfectly good job himself.”

Blaine rummaged in the drawers until he found some wooden skewers. He grabbed a knife and started to cut fruit in little dices. Kurt, after watching him for a few seconds, simply grabbed another knife and began to help.

“I know things ended horribly between us ten years ago,” Kurt said out of nowhere, startling Blaine so much that it was a miracle he didn't cut off one of his fingers. He hadn't thought Kurt would bring it up. “And I appreciate how nice you're being now, despite having so many reasons to hate me.”

“I don't hate you, Kurt,” Blaine murmured, trying to focus on cutting perfect squares of pineapple. “It's been a long time. I think I made my peace with it. We were kids, we made mistakes. Like we said before, life doesn't always go in the direction you expect it to.”

Kurt nodded slowly, but didn't look at him.

They finished the skewers and called the kids to the kitchen. They arrived laughing and running, Olivia dragging Finn by the hand, and the little boy looked flushed with happiness. Blaine caught Kurt watching him, and something about Kurt's shiny eyes told him this wasn't something he had witnessed often.

As the kids sat at the table and ate their fruit, talking a mile a minute, their parents leaned against the counter and watched them. Olivia had raspberry-sticky fingers and was laughing at something Finn had just said. She looked so happy, and even though Blaine had worked hard to make sure she never had anything to worry about it, even when he and Patrick were in the middle of a messy, unexpected divorce, he wasn't sure he had ever seen him bond with a child her age like this, had never seen her this careless and joyful. She had always been friendly and social, loved her family and spending time with them, never had issues with her classmates. But this? This was new.

He leaned a bit towards Kurt, and said: “It looks like we're stuck together.”

Kurt let out a soft humming sound, akin to agreement.

The kids' laughter drowned out the wild hammering of their hearts. If there had been silence, maybe they would have noticed they were beating in unison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this one!  
> A lot of you were rooting for Finn and Olivia to become friends, so I've been really excited about sharing this chapter.  
> Have a wonderful day and I'll see you on Saturday!  
> L.-


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday!  
> I'm a little overwhelmed with your reactions after the last chapter. You guys rock. I don't even know what to say anymore. I just love you. Thank you.  
> Christine continues to be the best beta ever. Standing ovation for her.  
> I really like the way this chapter turned out. I hope you'll enjoy it!

As he stopped at the intersection, Kurt looked over his shoulder. Finn was asleep in the backseat, his little head tilted towards his shoulder, but there was a peaceful expression on his face that wasn't there very often, and Kurt allowed himself to stare, to treasure it, before turning his attention back to the road.

It had been a very unexpected and bizarre day – when Kurt had gotten out of bed that morning, he hadn't imagined he would spend his entire afternoon at Blaine Anderson's house. His only plan when it came to Blaine, now that he knew it was possible their paths would cross regularly, had been to stay as far away from him as he could. Well, that plan hadn't lasted very long. And now, with the way Finn and Olivia had bonded, it was obvious Blaine was right: it looked like they were stuck together.

Kurt couldn't believe how calm and collected Blaine had seemed as they talked, especially when Kurt finally gathered enough courage to mention their history together and how badly things had ended between them. As he sat at his kitchen table, drinking the coffee Blaine had made for him (exactly how he liked it, as if he still made coffee for Kurt every day), all he had been able to think about was that last evening together, the rain falling steadily outside and Blaine's heart cracking under his hands as he called off the engagement.

_I will never forgive you for this._

Except it looked like he had.

Maybe in this past ten years, Blaine had realized he was better off without Kurt. And Kurt had to agree – what had he done with his life except go down a road that had ended in nothing but pain? The only positive thing in his life after all his bad decisions was Finn, but he still had screwed things up with his son by staying in an abusive relationship instead of running away sooner.

Had that road started at that restaurant table when he told Blaine he didn't want to marry him? Had he been punished for breaking Blaine's heart? Everything had gone wrong after that night, even when Kurt thought he was making the right choices. Blaine had been the first big loss, and had been followed by others – Rachel, Santana, all his friends; then his parents, who he had pushed away without a second's hesitation at Gabriel's suggestion. Maybe he deserved what he had been through. Maybe it was the price he needed to pay for hurting the people who had loved him the most.

What good had it done? Kurt had ended up broken, used and completely alone, nothing but a shield to keep his child safe. He barely had strength or will to be something other than that. Finn was all that mattered. Finn made him want to at least try, to do whatever he could to make sure his son was the happiest he could be.

And if his happiness required Kurt to see Blaine more often, to have to relive the pain and the heartache, to have to bear the regret and the guilt, the loss and the shame... then Kurt would do it, every single day, as long as it brought a smile to his son's face.

Kurt's heart was already shattered. What difference could it make?

* * *

“Hold on,” Cooper said, cutting Blaine off mid-word. “Please, hold on for a moment. I think I might need to drive to your house immediately and _punch you in the face_.”

Blaine sighed. He had known exactly how Cooper would react when he filled him on what had transpired that day. “Is this how you talk to your clients?”

“No, my clients aren't nearly as stupid as you are, and I've had a client once who actually believed that the best way to lose weight was to _eat paper_ , Blaine,” Cooper muttered pointedly. “Are you stupid enough to eat paper?”

Blaine let out another sigh. Sometimes his brother had that effect on him. “No, Coop.”

“No, but you're stupid enough to invite your ex-fiancé into your house,” Cooper snapped angrily. “I can't believe this!”

“What did you want me to do? Olivia is friends with his son,” Blaine said, peeking into the living room to make sure she was distracted with the television and not listening to him. “I can't forbid her to see him. And it's not Finn's fault that his dad and I have history.”

“Blaine, do I need to remind you how fucked up you were after he broke the engagement off?” Cooper asked, and Blaine knew his brother was worried about him and all he wanted was to help, but he wished he didn't have to be so blunt about everything.

Blaine remembered, alright. He didn't think he would ever forget, even if he told Kurt that he had made his peace with it.

Some days he felt like he had moved on completely, and then on a cold lonely night, he replayed the moments they had shared together, both good and bad, as if he was trying to find the exact point in which everything had gone wrong. As if finding it now, a decade later, would help in any way.

There was no patching up what had been broken for so long.

It was Cooper's turn to sigh, and he sounded genuinely aggrieved, as if dealing with his dense little brother was the hardest thing in the world. Blaine let him have it – he would always owe Cooper for coming to his rescue when he was at his worst.

“Look, I'm not being hard on you just for the sake of it. I really don't want you to get hurt again, and we both know Kurt's always had the power to hurt you the most,” Cooper said, a little more calmly. “I can't tell you what to do, Blaine, but... just be careful. You're too kind, too open, too generous. And it always backfires.”

“I'm not going to fall in love with him again, Coop,” Blaine said tiredly.

Cooper let out a short humming sound, completely skeptical. “All I know is that it took you a long time and a lot of therapy to get over him. You were a mess. You hit rock bottom and then some. He made you feel worthless, like you had no right to be loved...”

Blaine closed his eyes, and whispered. “I remember.”

“Good. I'm glad you remember. Maybe it means you won't make the same mistakes again,” Cooper replied. There was a murmur in the background and Cooper paused before turning his attention back to Blaine. “Look, I gotta go. Maggie's calling me for dinner. But this isn't over, okay? We need to talk about this.”

“There's nothing to talk about, Coop,” Blaine reassured him.

“Sure, you say that now, but you're the one who called me to tell me about Kurt being to your house,” Cooper retorted and Blaine had to give him that round. “Take care, little brother. I mean it.”

“I will,” Blaine said, just as Olivia turned the TV off and came to join him in the kitchen. “Thank you.”

“Don't mention it. I'm here for you, even when that means I have to punch you in the face to make you come to your senses,” Cooper said, and then added, in a softer tone. “I love you, squirt.”

“Love you too, Coop.”

They ended the call and Blaine turned to find Olivia standing right behind him. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a big hug. She didn't ask why, just held onto him for dear life, and Blaine was so, so grateful for it.

He didn't think she was old enough to understand the very complicated thoughts going through her daddy's head.

* * *

Kurt's grip on Finn's hand tightened the closer they got to the school the following morning. He had already given his son a pretty serious talk about what to do if he ever found himself in a situation like the one the previous day, but he wanted to make sure he understood. He never wanted to be as terrified as he had been when he got the call that Finn was missing.

“What are you supposed to do if something happens and you get scared?” Kurt asked him for the millionth time.

He almost laughed when he saw Finn roll his eyes – he wasn't a particularly sassy child, but being Kurt Hummel's son, it was bound to kick in at one point or another. “I have to tell Miss Mayra and not hide where no one can find me. And if Miss Mayra isn't around, I have to tell any of the other teachers to call my daddy.”

“Exactly, thank you so much,” Kurt said softly.

“I didn't mean to scare you, daddy. I promise I won't do it again,” Finn murmured, kicking at a little stone along the sidewalk.

Kurt smiled at him. “I know you didn't do it on purpose, sweetie. You just didn't know better. But you do now, and I will always come pick you up if you need me to.”

As every morning, there were kids and parents everywhere when they arrived, and Kurt stopped right before the gates and kneeled on the floor. He fixed Finn's hair, handed him his lunch box and kissed his forehead.

“I love you more than anything in the world, you know that, right?” He murmured, wishing those words could come even close to what he felt for this little boy.

Finn grinned so wide his face almost split in two. “I love you too, daddy!” He looked right over Kurt's shoulder and waved. “Hi Olivia! Hi Olivia's daddy!”

Kurt exhaled before getting back on his feet and turning around. He was determined to not make things weird with Blaine. “Good morning.”

“Morning, guys!” Blaine said. “Ready for another adventure today?”

Kurt groaned. “Let's not have another one so soon, okay?”

Blaine let out a quick laugh and placed his hand on Olivia's shoulder, squeezing gently. “We already had a pretty serious conversation about not giving dad a heart attack again, so I think we're set.”

“So did we,” Kurt replied. He leaned in and dropped another kiss on Finn's head. “Go right ahead, sweetie. Have a nice day.”

“Thanks, daddy. Let's go, Olivia!” Finn exclaimed happily.

“I'm coming!” She said and turned to her father. “Bye, daddy. I'll be good, I promise. Bye, Kurt! Let's go, Finn, I'll race you to our classroom!”

“No, don't run!” Blaine screamed after her, but she had already broken into a run and Finn was following her, laughter trailing after them. “God, that girl. I'm going to be all grey and wrinkled before she even starts elementary school.”

“She sure is a firecracker,” Kurt commented as he watched them disappear into the building. “But I like that. She'll be good for Finn.”

Blaine smiled at him as if he had said the right thing, and Kurt had no idea why, but he welcomed the lack of awkwardness floating between them. It seemed that after the previous afternoon, the worst was behind them.

“He's good for her, too,” Blaine said softly, and without noticing, they both turned around and began walking away. “And I appreciate that you two came over for a little play date yesterday. She's very friendly and easygoing, but still doesn't have that many friends she gets together with.”

“No problem. He had a great time,” Kurt replied, as they reached Blaine's car.

Blaine stopped and looked at him for a moment. It seemed like he was about to ask Kurt something, but he didn't. Kurt began to feel a little tense – it was okay being cordial, especially since their kids had bonded so quickly, but it probably wasn't wise to forget their history was far from perfect.

“I have to go,” Kurt said before Blaine could say whatever it was that was waiting right on the tip of his tongue. “Dad's waiting for me at the garage.”

“Oh sure. I have to get to work, too. So... have a good day, Kurt,” Blaine murmured, and went around the car to the driver's side.

“You too,” Kurt said, and hurried to walk away.

Out of all the kids in his class, Finn _had_ to befriend Blaine Anderson's daughter...

* * *

Scandals hadn't changed a bit since the first time Blaine had been there when he was nothing but a kid with an ID. But despite the years, it remained the only gay bar in the area. Most LGBTQ+ people in the Lima and Westerville areas preferred to drive to Columbus or even Cincinatti when in the mood for a drink and a night of mingling with hopefully single and available people, but Blaine was oddly fond of Scandals. And since he wasn't planning on going home with anyone at the end of the night, he wasn't particularly miffed at the lack of options.

It was a rare Saturday night for him. For once, Patrick had picked up Olivia and taken her to his apartment for the weekend. The house had been too silent the moment she walked out the door with her other dad, and Blaine put up with it for most of the day – he had chores to complete, after all. He cleaned the entire house, did the laundry, paid bills, and went to the grocery store. But by the time evening rolled around and he sat in front of the television with a bottle of beer, he couldn't put up with the silence and the loneliness.

He tried calling Cooper but he and Maggie already had plans. He called a few of his friends from work, but no luck there either. In the end, he decided he could have fun by himself. He could go out for a drink, maybe chat with someone interesting for a while, and be back home at a reasonable hour.

Okay, fine, and maybe, just maybe, if Prince Charming happened to stumble into a gay bar in the Middle of Nowhere, Ohio, then Blaine maybe, just maybe, could finally meet the man of his dreams.

One that wouldn't break his heart like the previous ones, hopefully.

An Elton John song started playing and the small crowd whooped in appreciation just as Blaine walked inside and towards the bar. He smiled and slid into a stool, turning his back to the bar so he could watch the drag queens and the bears dancing together, their hands thrown in the air in joyful abandon.

“What can I get you, gorgeous?” The bartender asked.

Blaine looked over his shoulder, still smiling. “Hi. Beer, please.”

He sipped his beer calmly, because it was the only drink he would allow himself for the night since he had driven here, and simply watched as everyone danced and talked and flirted and had a great time in a place that, despite looking like it had gotten stuck somewhere in the 80s, was warm and welcoming, and the only refuge some of these people knew.

Blaine began to tap his foot in time with the music just as a guy – probably his age or perhaps a couple years younger – caught his eye from across the room and smiled at him. Blaine smiled back. It had been a while since a man had shown interest in him, and it was nice to feel appreciated. He took another sip of his beer as he considered whether it was a good idea to go to him or to wait for him to approach him.

That was when his phone began to ring.

It was a miracle he even heard it with the music and the voices, but he managed to pull it out of his pocket just in time before the call went to voicemail. When he saw it Patrick calling, he panicked.

“Patrick?” He said, leaving the stool and walking towards the restrooms, where he knew the noise wouldn't be as loud.

“Hey Blaine,” Patrick replied, and then hesitated. “What's that noise? Where are you?”

“I'm out. What's going on? Why are you calling me? Is Olivia okay?” He asked, feeling a little frantic.

“She's fine, calm down. It's just... well, she's been crying forever and I don't know what to do to get her to stop, and now she's screaming at the top of her lungs that she wants you, so...” Patrick explained, sounding irritated and frustrated. “Can you come pick her up?”

Blaine leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. “What? Why is she crying?”

“I don't know, something about some show that she wanted to watch on TV and I don't know what she's talking about, and she also wouldn't eat anything the entire day. Look, just... can you please come? I'm afraid the neighbors will call the cops if she keeps screaming like this,” Patrick insisted.

“I'm on my way,” Blaine said, and hung up.

He felt like punching the wall – it was always like this with Patrick. Every little crisis, every little obstacle made him back away and call Blaine. He could never handle anything when it came to their daughter, and it was always Blaine having to pick up more and more responsibility. And he loved his daughter, but they had both agreed to be her parents. They had made plans. It was supposed to be a team effort.

And now Blaine was completely alone.

Patrick got to live his life as if Olivia didn't even exist. He didn't have to pick her up at school or take her to the doctor when she was unwell. He never bought her clothes when she outgrew them. He never called and asked Blaine for more time with her. It was always Blaine calling him to see when he would be available.

Blaine really didn't want to accuse Patrick of being a bad father, but the words were building up in his throat, ready to jump out at any moment. After the divorce, Blaine had thought Patrick would make more of an effort to be there. Instead, he had almost given up entirely.

His beer was still on top of the bar, and the guy who had smiled at him was standing near his now empty stool, clearly looking for him.

Blaine left the bar and got into his car.

* * *

Patrick had moved to an apartment about 40 minutes away from Blaine's place and closer to work. It was a really nice and quiet neighborhood, and Blaine remembered the first time he had driven there to drop Olivia off for a weekend. He had thought Patrick had been so smart at choosing this place, so great at keeping Olivia's best interest at heart and picking a neighborhood that was safe, clean and full of other families and children she could play with when she stayed over.

Now he realized Patrick had never really considered any of those things. If they were good for Olivia, it was only out of sheer luck and coincidence.

As soon as he stood at the front door, he could hear Olivia screaming and crying. It made his heart clench painfully – how long had she been like this? He knocked, loud enough to be heard over her.

Patrick's face transformed into a mask of relief as soon as he opened the door and saw Blaine there. “Thank god. I thought you were my next door neighbor again. She came twice already to ask me to get her to shut up.”

Blaine didn't even bother replying to that, he simply looked behind Patrick and into the apartment and called: “Olivia?”

The crying and screaming stopped abruptly. He saw her leaning out of the hallway to peek at the door. “Daddy? Daddy!” She exclaimed as soon as she realized he was there, and ran towards him.

Blaine had his arms wide open for her and picked her up and held her tightly against his chest. “It's okay, honey. It's okay.”

He could feel her tears against his neck and it broke his heart.

“Can we go home now, please?” She asked in a quiet voice.

Blaine kissed her messy hair and nodded. “Sure. Why don't you go pick up your stuff? I'll talk to your dad for a moment.”

Olivia reluctantly pulled away and allowed Blaine to put her back down on the floor. “Fine.”

Both men watched her as she disappeared down the hallway and into her room. Only then did Patrick turn to him and, running a hand down his face, started to say: “Thanks for coming, Blaine. I was...”

“Shut up,” Blaine cut him off, and Patrick was so surprised his eyebrows shot up all the way to his hairline. “I didn't come for you. I came for her. You are the adult, and you should know better. You should know how to help your daughter when she's upset, instead of letting her cry and scream for I don't even know how long!”

“You don't understand,” Patrick said, frowning. “She was impossible. She wouldn't eat any of the food I made for her, she...”

“She's _five years old_!” Blaine interrupted. “She's not going to be easy but that doesn't mean you can just get rid of her as soon as she doesn't do what you expect her to.”

“That's easy for you to say, you're her superhero. All I hear all day is 'daddy did this, daddy said that,'” Patrick retorted, obviously getting riled up.

“She would do the same with you if you were ever there for her,” Blaine replied, just as Olivia left her room, carrying her backpack and stuffed zebra. Blaine did his best to not show her how upset he was. He always found a smile for her. “Ready to go, honey?”

“Yes, daddy,” Olivia said, not looking at Patrick, her eyes on the floor.

“Okay. Say goodbye to your dad,” Blaine murmured.

Olivia didn't even look up as she whispered: “Bye.”

Blaine grabbed her in his arms and took her back to his car.

* * *

Olivia had been too upset the previous night to talk, so Blaine simply fixed her a quick dinner and read her a few books until she fell asleep. It had obviously been a very emotionally-draining day for her, but Blaine knew her well, and he was sure she would tell him all about it as soon as she was ready.

She appeared in the kitchen the next morning, rubbing at her sleepy eyes, her hair a messy cloud over her head. Blaine was at the stove making chocolate chip pancakes and turned to her, spatula in hand, with a big smile.

“Good morning, sweetie! Did you sleep well?”

The fact that she only shrugged and slipped into her seat by the window told him she was still not okay. Olivia sat with her legs under her on the bench and simply gazed out to the garden in silence. Blaine really wanted to drop everything and hold her in his arms, but he had learned a while ago to give her the space she needed. Olivia was smart and sensible, and she always turned to him when she finally had put her feelings into words. It was important that she learned how to articulate what was happening to her, so Blaine always made a point to give her the time and space to do so. He finished making breakfast and eventually joined her at the table, a cup of coffee in front of him, some orange juice for her.

Finally, when the pile of pancakes had began to diminish and she had chocolate stains around her mouth, she put her fork down and looked at him seriously.

“Why doesn't my other daddy like me?” She asked calmly, but the words broke Blaine's heart.

He reached across the table for her hand. “Is that how you feel? You feel that dad doesn't like you?”

“Yes,” she replied simply. “He never wants to do anything with me, and tells me to just play by myself. When I try to tell him something about school or about us, he never wants to listen to me. He doesn't care about me. It's not like when I'm with you.”

Blaine smiled softly at her. “I know, sweetie. But it's different. We live together, we do everything together. But dad doesn't have that luxury, so maybe he needs some time to catch up. Maybe he doesn't know your favorite shows or your favorite foods as well as I do, but he's still your dad...”

“I always get so happy when he comes to see me,” Olivia interrupted, frowning down at her half-eaten pancakes. “But then it's never actually nice to spend time with him.”

Blaine stood up and went around the table to sit next to her on the bench. She immediately cuddled up to his side and Blaine dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Sometimes adults don't always know exactly how precious something is until they no longer have it, you know? And we get busy with things that aren't really that important and forget to appreciate what matters the most. I'm sorry you feel sad and upset, and that your dad disappointed you.”

Blaine made a mental note to have a little chat with Patrick. Unfortunately, it wasn't something he could avoid. They needed to work together to make sure Olivia was safe, healthy and happy, and Patrick needed to make some changes to do his part.

It was exhausting, to constantly chase after Patrick like this, to push him, to beg him to do the right thing. It wasn't as if Blaine had everything figured out either – he, too, made many, many mistakes. Parenting didn't come with a user's manual. He was making most stuff up as he went, and hoping his daughter would forgive him if he screwed up every once in a while. But he had her best interests at heart, and that was the best guide to follow. Sometimes he wasn't sure where Patrick's priorities were – with his family or with his own individual life.

“He was going to take me to the park today,” she said sadly.

“We can still go, if you want,” Blaine replied immediately, as he reached for his cup of coffee and took a sip.

Olivia hesitated for a moment. “Can Finn come with us?”

Blaine paused, the cup halfway to his mouth. He put it back down carefully. “I don't know, honey. Maybe his dad is busy. It could just be you and me today, and maybe some other day...”

“I really want to see my friend,” she murmured quietly, and Blaine didn't have the heart to say no.

“I'll see what I can do,” he promised, and Olivia let out the first genuine smile of the day.

The problem was, Blaine realized, he had no idea how to contact Kurt.

* * *

There was some old song playing on the radio and Carole hummed along as she sat beside Kurt on the couch, coffee cups in front of them on the table, and a pile of laundry to fold beckoning them. It was amazing, the rate at which Finn went through clothes during the week, especially now that he had school thrown in the mix. When they had lived in New York, Finn would only need to change before bed each night. He never had grass stains on his knees or paint on the collars of his t-shirts.

He had also never been this happy before, so Kurt was glad to let him get as dirty as he needed to in the process of discovering what a real childhood was.

Finn was currently out with his father. Burt insisted on spending time with him as often as he could, which Kurt loved and felt guilty for at the same time, having deprived his dad of his grandson for so long. Today, he had taken Finn out for breakfast to his favorite diner. Kurt had waved at them as Burt drove away in his truck, Finn's excited little face stuck to the window as he waved back.

Kurt's Sunday plans weren't as exciting. After finishing with the laundry, he thought he would get a few healthy snacks done for the upcoming week, as well as some lunch options for Finn to take to school. Now that he was working at the garage, he didn't have nearly as much time to do everything during the week, and he didn't like to be slaving at the kitchen once Finn was back in the afternoons. And maybe after he was done with that, once Burt was done with his bonding time, perhaps Finn would cuddle with him on the couch to watch a movie or two.

All of that, the simple things, sounded like paradise to Kurt right now.

Carole had moved from humming to trying to convince Kurt to join her at the local gym for a pilates or yoga class at some point during the week. It was not the first time she suggested it, and Kurt appreciated the gesture, but he already felt like he was mostly freeloading off his parents, he needed to do things that made him feel useful, more than anything.

He was about to turn her down for the millionth time when the phone began to ring. It was the landline, which was rarely ever used anymore, so they both looked at each other in curiosity before Carole grabbed the phone and answered.

“Hello?” She said, and Kurt continued folding the laundry as she spoke. “Oh! What a surprise! Yes, yes, we're doing great. How have you been? Oh, I'm glad, I'm glad. It's so nice to hear your voice. Yes. Of course. I will definitely tell Burt you send him your love. He'll be happy to hear from you. Of course, honey. Here he is now. Bye.”

Kurt had grown more and more curious with every word she said and had now abandoned the clothes in favor of just looking at her inquisitively. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when she passed the phone over to him. Who could call him? No one knew he was here.

He cleared his throat and said: “Hello?”

“Kurt? Hi, I'm so sorry to bother you.” It was Blaine's voice, unmistakable, and not having expected it, Kurt felt his breath shorten for a moment, like a ghost passing right through him. “I hope you don't mind. I still had your parents' phone number saved and I didn't have any other way to contact you.”

Kurt noticed that Carole was watching him, so he turned slightly on the couch, feeling a bit anxious. “It's fine. How can I... how can I help you?”

“Well, Olivia was wondering if Finn would be available for a little playdate today? I'm sorry it's on such short notice, and she'll understand if you're busy. She just had a bit of a bad weekend and she says she needs her friend,” Blaine explained, and his voice sounded as silky smooth as it always did on the phone.

Kurt was having flashbacks to a million phone calls, a million nights of doing their skin-care ritual together on the phone, talking about their days, and never wanting to hang up as they slipped into bed, too many miles between them.

“Is she okay?” Kurt asked, frowning a bit in concern.

“Yes, yes, she's fine, thank you. It's just... a bit of a long story, I'll tell you about it later if you want, but my ex-husband was supposed to have her this weekend and things didn't go according to plan. They never seem to with him,” he added a little bitterly.

 _Ex-husband_. It was so weird to hear those words coming from Blaine's lips.

“Well, Finn's not here right now. He's out with my dad,” Kurt murmured. He didn't want Olivia to have another disappointment, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to spend more time with the Andersons. “But I can ask him when he comes home. I'm sure he'll be excited to see her, but...”

“It's okay. Please, don't feel pressured into agreeing. I told her we can probably schedule something for another day,” Blaine said gently. “I was planning on taking her to the park, maybe I can even spoil her with some ice-cream afterwards and she'll forget all about it.”

Kurt bit his lip. He still felt Carole's attentive eyes on him. The park sounded a little less dangerous than going back to Blaine's place, where it was just them. And he was sure Finn would be upset if he didn't allow him to see his friend. “Well, maybe we can meet you at the park? What time were you planning on being there?”

Blaine seemed deeply grateful as he gave him the details. Once they hung up, Kurt continued folding clothes, trying to ignore Carole, but there was no point. She wasn't a woman who allowed people to ignore her.

“It was nice to hear from Blaine after so long, and to know he's doing okay. Are you seeing him later?” She asked nonchalantly.

The song on the radio changed after the previous one ended. Kurt startled as the first notes of _I Just Can't Get Enough_ began to echo around the living room. He remembered a failed wedding, a venue decorated for Valentine's Day, and a boy bouncing on stage right next to him, every lyric, every dance, every brush against each other bringing them closer despite the distance that had grown between them.

And then, later, a hotel room and rumpled sheets...

Kurt felt a little breathless, like he was choking. He nodded. “Yes, I think I am.”

* * *

Blaine parked the car in the first available spot he found and glanced arount the park. The trees were slowly muting from luscious green to ocre tones, the leaves getting ready to fall and welcome the new season. There were a few families with children, an older man walking a dog, and a group of teenagers having a picnic on the far end of the park. Kurt and Finn weren't there. Maybe they were not coming, after all.

Olivia was already bouncing excitedly in the backseat, so he turned to look at her.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Don't be disappointed if they don't come, okay? Kurt said they would try to be here, but it was possible they already had plans. We can always set something up some other day, alright?”

She had already had enough disappointments for one weekend alone, and though he had hoped Finn and Kurt would make it, he also understood it had been a very last minute invitation. And it also wasn't fair to load Olivia's expectations onto Kurt's shoulders, when it was obvious he was already dealing with so much...

“Look, daddy, they're here!” Olivia exclaimed instead, pointing over his shoulder.

Blaine followed the direction of her finger and saw Kurt, Finn's hand tightly gripped in his own, turning around the corner and heading for the car. Without realizing it, a little smile spread on Blaine's face. “Alright,” he said to Olivia. “Let's go.”

He exited the car and went around it to help her out, immediately grabbing her hand to keep her from running away in excitement. She had made him bring her bike, a birthday present that Cooper and Maggie had gotten her that year, so he kept a firm hold on her as he opened the trunk to take it out.

Kurt was standing at the edge of the park, looking around with a frown on his face, obviously trying to spot them, but it was Finn who did so first. He tugged on his father's hand and said: “There they are, daddy!”

Since there was no danger of Olivia accidentally running into oncoming traffic, Blaine let go of her, and she instantly ran the last few steps towards her friend and wrapped him up in her arms. Finn laughed as he hugged her, too, patting her back.

“Hi, Ollie,” he said.

“Hi, Finn,” she replied as she pulled away. “I'm so happy you came!”

“Olivia, don't be rude. Say hello to Finn's dad, too,” Blaine said as he stopped next to her.

“Hi, Kurt! Thanks for bringing Finn to the park!” She peeped, beaming up at him.

Kurt smiled. “It's nice to see you again, Olivia. Finn?” He prompted.

“Hi, Olivia's daddy,” Finn murmured shyly.

Olivia nudged him with her elbow and whispered theatrically: “His name is Blaine.”

Finn giggled and corrected: “Hi, Mr. Blaine.”

“Hey buddy. Thanks for coming to play with my little girl here,” Blaine replied as he pressed his hand to Olivia's shoulder lovingly. Only then did he look up at Kurt, and added, politely: “Hey, Kurt. I'm glad you guys could make it.”

“It's no problem,” Kurt smiled at him, too, but it was brief and a little awkward.

It didn't take long before the kids took off to play – Olivia wanted to go to the slides and she grabbed Finn's hand and dragged him along. Blaine suspected he would be carrying Olivia's bike all afternoon and wished he had left it in the car. Kurt was already heading towards a bench under a tree, so he followed him and placed the bike next to it before taking a seat with him.

“I hope we didn't ruin any of your Sunday plans,” Blaine commented, mostly to break the ice.

“Nothing too exciting, so don't worry about it,” Kurt replied, his eyes fixed on Finn. He was sitting up straight, too straight to be comfortable, clearly tense. “I was going to cook a few snacks for Finn and get a few chores done.”

For some reason, Blaine couldn't find a way to keep a conversation flowing between them. He felt as uncomfortable as the first time he had run into Kurt outside the school. He wasn't sure if it was because Kurt's walls seemed to be up and locked in place, or because Blaine just didn't know how to be around him normally, not anymore. Or if it was because neither of them had had time to get ready to be in the other's presence today.

But when had they ever been ready? Life seemed to keep pushing them into each other's path when they least expected it.

“So how's Olivia doing?” Kurt asked, and Blaine was grateful that he tried. “Is she okay?”

With a sigh, Blaine reclined against the back of the bench. He watched as Olivia went down the slide, laughing happily, Finn coming right behind her and almost bumping against her as they landed. “She seems to be okay now, yeah. But unfortunately, it's not something that's going to be fixed overnight. My ex-husband...” Blaine paused and glanced at Kurt. “Sorry. I was about to start ranting and I don't think that's what you want right now.”

“Oh, no, please,” Kurt said, turning slightly as if to show Blaine he had his attention, though he still made sure to keep an eye on Finn at all times. “I don't mind. Get it off your chest.”

Back in the day, Kurt had been the person Blaine had gone to for comfort. Sometimes it had been hard to talk to him about all his insecurities and fears, but he had always known that Kurt wouldn't judge him, that he would be ready to listen to him, as well as ready to offer him a soothing embrace and a kiss when he needed it. It had been second nature to Blaine at one point – something was wrong? Then he needed Kurt. And he believed that he had been that same kind of comfort and safe place for Kurt, too.

But none of that existed anymore. There were too many heartaches, too many years, too much bad blood between them now. It wasn't as easy opening up to him.

And Blaine realized, as he tried to figure out how to talk to him, that no one had ever quite replaced Kurt in that sense. No one had ever listened to him or helped him work through the worst parts of him, the parts he was a bit afraid to look at, the ones that were a little ugly. He'd had friends, lovers, even a husband, for goodness sake, and yet... he had never opened up freely with any of them.

It didn't come naturally to him anymore, to tell Kurt how he felt, to tell him about the things that bothered him. But today, as he looked around the park and thought that there wasn't really anyone else he could tell them to, he decided to try.

“I think I mentioned Patrick was supposed to have her this weekend?” He asked and Kurt nodded in confirmation. “Well, whenever she's at his place, something happens and I have to pick her up early. He suddenly has to work, or he has some kind of family emergency, or he's under the weather. Sometimes the excuses come long before he even picks her up, so she doesn't get to see him at all. I feel like... like he doesn't put in the effort to be a part of her life since we split. I always have to be available, and I don't get to have excuses, but he bails at the first little inconvenience.”

“That's really unfair on you, and on Olivia,” Kurt said. “And she's such a smart girl, I'm sure she notices.”

“Oh, she does,” Blaine muttered, with a bitter laugh. “I think she actually acts out on purpose when she's with him. It's like she's testing him, like she wants to see how much he's willing to put up with before he pushes her away.”

“Is that what happened this weekend?” Kurt inquired. They were both looking at the kids now, who had moved from the slide to the swings.

“I think so, yeah,” Blaine replied with another tired sigh. “But it's not just that. I just don't think he knows her enough – he doesn't know what her favorite foods are or her favorite TV shows. He's not a part of her everyday life. She started school and he didn't call to check on her. He never checks on her just for the sake of it, just to make sure she knows he's there for her.”

“It's hard,” Kurt said absently. “Having to be a parent by yourself all the time, having no one to share the good and the bad stuff...”

“Yeah, it is,” Blaine agreed. “I love her, and I wouldn't change being her dad for absolutely anything in this world. But when we decided to adopt her, this is not what I pictured parenthood would be like. I thought it was going to be a team sport, and now I'm all alone. He didn't even look back.”

“That's his loss,” Kurt murmured, and Blaine's eyes snapped to him. Kurt wasn't looking at him, of course, his attention was on the children, and Blaine wondered if he even heard his own words.

Had it been Kurt's loss, too? Letting Blaine go?

No. That was not something he was allowed to think. It was in the past, and Blaine had moved on long ago.

A leaf fell from one of the branches hanging over their heads and landed on Kurt's hair. Blaine watched as it caught on the thick chestnut strands, but Kurt didn't seem to notice. Blaine instinctively raised his hand to brush it off at the same time Kurt turned his head to look at him again.

When he saw Blaine's hand raised, he flinched back so abruptly, he almost fell off bench. He recoiled, lifting his own arms partially, as if to cover his face, his breath hitching.

Blaine froze.

Kurt Hummel had faced bullies, had run into a dark New York alley to help the helpless only to end up in a hospital bed. He had stood up for himself, never showing fear despite the fact that it lived in him, so heavy sometimes that he could hardly go on. When Blaine had first met him, he had been at his lowest, chased away by a boy who made his life a living hell, who threatened him and abused him, and yet... Kurt had stood his ground, no matter how scared he was.

Nothing had ever brought him down. He had faced every challenge and come out stronger in the end, never shrinking away from them. Kurt Hummel didn't let anything break him.

The man before him was broken.

“Kurt...” He whispered, horrified. “Kurt, I'm sorry. I wasn't going to...”

Kurt let his arms fall, and he looked both pale and embarrassed by his reaction. “It's okay...”

“There's a leaf in your hair, I just wanted to...” Blaine said, and his chest _hurt_. “I'm so sorry.”

“You didn't do anything wrong,” Kurt insisted, not looking at him. He carefully brushed the leaf away, and it fell on his lap. He stared at it numbly.

“I would never...” Blaine began to say, because he needed him to know. Kurt had to know already, right?

“I know you wouldn't,” Kurt said in a soft voice. Blaine heard the words he didn't say: _I know you wouldn't, but there are men who do_. He stood up, and Blaine was afraid he would leave, afraid he had ruined things beyond repair. “I need... I need a moment, okay? I'm just gonna go check on the kids.”

“Of course,” Blaine immediately nodded. He wanted to give Kurt whatever he needed to move past this.

He watched him as he walked away. God, he felt like such an idiot. What was he even thinking? Blaine didn't know the extent of what Kurt had gone through, but he should have known that touching him was probably one of the worst things he could do. What was he supposed to do now? He wanted to make sure Kurt was alright, but part of him felt like it was better to let Kurt pretend nothing had happened once he came back.

Kurt was clearly offering the kids to push them on the swings, because they both cheered loudly enough for Blaine to hear them, and Kurt stood behind them, alternating between pressing a hand to Finn's back, and then to Olivia's, until they were both squealing in pleasure as the swings soared in the air.

Blaine closed his eyes tightly. He felt a little nauseous.

It took a few minutes for Kurt to return, but he looked completely collected when he did, as if the incident had never happened, so Blaine tried to imitate him, to pretend it hadn't bothered him to see the strongest person he had ever known recoil in fear from him.

“I don't think you told me what you're doing now,” Kurt said, conversing normally as if Blaine's stomach wasn't all twisted. “For work, I mean.”

Blaine tried to focus on his answer, until he could pretend as well as Kurt did. “Oh, I work at Dalton Academy. I'm the Warblers coach.”

Kurt's eyes opened wide in surprise. “You are? That's fantastic!”

“Yeah, it is. I love it there. I actually teach a few more classes, but that's basically why they hired me in the beginning,” Blaine explained, and then told Kurt a bit about his current students and where he had gone to college to get his college degree. There was an underlying omission – the fact that Blaine had ended there because he had run away from New York when Kurt broke up with him. But it wasn't the right time to revisit those painful memories.

It would probably never be the right time.

“I can't believe you're back with The Warblers. It feels like full circle,” Kurt murmured as he leaned back on the bench, looking more relaxed. Blaine wondered if it was all a facade. Kurt had always been a really good actor. “Do you ever compete with McKinley? Are the New Directions back?”

Blaine shook his head. “No, they never returned after being disbanded in my senior year. I heard Mr. Schue worked with Vocal Adrenaline for a while, but by the time I met them at regionals, he had already resigned. I thought he would try to bring the New Directions back, but I guess he didn't.”

Kurt let out a little humming sound and he seemed to be about to say something, but then the kids came back running towards them.

Olivia tugged on Blaine's sleeve. “Can I have some water, please?”

Blaine groaned. “Sorry, sweetie. I forgot to grab a bottle of water before we left the house. We could go buy some...”

Kurt opened his bag. “I have a couple of boxes of juice. Is that okay, Olivia?”

Olivia clapped her hands happily. “Yes! Do you have apple juice?”

Kurt smiled at her and handed her the apple juice box. “Of course I do. Here.”

“Thank you, Kurt,” she said, and passed it on to Blaine so he would open it for her. “See, daddy? Kurt brought juice.”

“I even have one for your daddy, Olivia,” Kurt teased and offered Blaine one, as his son took the other. “Would you like some juice, Blaine?”

Blaine hesitated. Somehow, this moment didn't seem to be about a drink. It seemed to be a sort of truce or peace offering. It told Blaine that Kurt was willing to put in the work, to make things right between them, if Blaine could do the same.

Or maybe he was reading too much into it, wishful thinking messing with his brain.

He accepted the juice box, careful not to let his fingers graze Kurt's in any way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to know what you think about this chapter!   
> Thank you for reading! ♥  
> See you on Wednesday!  
> L.-


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